Despair for the Hopeful
by Nate Grey
Summary: Makoto saved the Remnants for a reason that only a true hope bearer could see: there is Light Within Despair. But only those willing to risk drowning in darkness can seize it. Makoto did it. Izuru watched and learned. But what he learned, is that the reverse is possible, and sometimes needed. For those who like their Hope with a dash more Despair.
1. Chapter 1

Notes: I held off on posting this first chapter until I had seen Hope, as it was more or less done a day or two before. I did not expect the two to match up even remotely, and they really didn't. But I did want to see what direction Hajime would go in, and I'm glad to see we agreed on a great deal, but not everything. Which is exactly what I hoped for. So this story should in no way be considered an angry response to what happened in canon, as is often the case with me. I was very pleased with the ending. Instead, consider this a not as hope-filled ending. Because I am truly amazed we got as much hope as we did out of a series that birthed Junko Enoshima.

* * *

(I realize this dedication is outdated now, but I decided to leave it as is.)

For Chiaki and Kyoko. Their only sin was being cute while lacking main protagonist plot armor.  
And on that note... please don't die for real, Aoi. You better be sleeping off that gunshot. And if Yuta calls, tell him you'll get back to him later. Much, much later. After your family name is Naegi and you've had six babies under the watchful eye of the Ultimate Obstetrician later.  
And Kyoko, if you're only sleeping: _not_ cool.

* * *

 **Despair for the Hopeful**

 **A Danganronpa Fanfic by**

 **Nate Grey, Ultimate Procrastinator (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**  
 **Chapter 1: Dark into Light**

* * *

 _Don't do it... (crash)_  
 _Don't do it... (smash)_  
 _Don't do it... (bash)_  
 _Don't do it... (thrash)_

 _Don't ever give up (you're close)_  
 _Don't ever give in (you're strong)_  
 _Don't ever give out (you're right)_  
 _Don't ever give in (they're wrong)_

 _Just dance! (despair) And dance! (despair)_  
 _And drown the world in your black magic!_  
 _Your chance! (burn it) At last! (break it)_  
 _Show the world the joys of Ultimate Tragic!_

Caught between the warring noises of the blaring speakers behind her, and the roaring crowd before her, Mioda Ibuki's mouth split in a grin full of mad delight. She was totally in her element.

People had always responded to her music. Nothing less could be expected of an Ultimate Musician. But it was so very different now. People did not simply respond to her music anymore. They obeyed it, craved it, were nourished by it. With every note, a new ear fell under her spell, and a new soul sank into her own personal brand of despair.

And even if some people did manage to resist Ibuki's music, they could not do so for very long. The reason for this abruptly sashayed into Ibuki's personal space, a whirl of hips and perfume and sin, her devilish smile and matching wink momentarily stealing Ibuki's breath and interrupting the song.

In that moment, the only thing that mattered on the stage was Saionji Hiyoko.

Not a single person in the crowd blamed Ibuki or minded, because they were also enchanted by this wondrous woman and her dark dance of despair. But for Ibuki, the impact was ten times more potent. Because each time those hips gyrated, Ibuki could feel them grinding against her own. Each time those lips formed a sexy smirk, she could still taste them. Each time Hiyoko so much as looked her way with intent to thrill, Ibuki recalled those frenzied moments beneath the sheets: twisted up with men, with women, with toys, with animals, with each other.

No one had ordered them to work together. No one had needed to. The natural pairing of their talents was obvious from the start, and they had simply gravitated to each other as if Junko herself had willed it. And perhaps, on some level, she had. When Ibuki set out on the road, Hiyoko went with her, no questions needed or asked, and neither one had looked back for even an instant.

Suddenly, Ibuki gasped in pain as a hand twisted into her hair and yanked her head down. She could see nothing but Hiyoko's snarling face.

"I didn't tell you to stop playing, you overflowing pile of sweaty pig-barf," Hiyoko growled.

"And I didn't tell you to stop dancing, you midget whore," Ibuki spat, their foreheads knocking together as she glared right back.

For a moment, it looked as if they would tear each other apart right there onstage.

Ibuki broke first, unable to ignore the heady scent of perfume and sweat at such close range, and flicked her tongue across Hiyoko's lips. "The next time I untie that kimono, it's staying untied for at least a week."

"You say that like it's supposed to be a threat, and not the treat that it is," Hiyoko purred, nipping at Ibuki's chin. Then she bumped Ibuki's hip hard with her own. "Try and play something worthy of me this time, you tone-deaf cow."

Ibuki grunted. "Whatever, you teeny-tiny tramp."

But as they turned away from each other, both young women wore matching smiles: of delight, of desire, of deepest despair that their love, if it could accurately be called that, only existed in this form, in this way, in this time. Under any other circumstances, they would be friends and nothing more. Lifelong friends, to be certain, but never anything else.

Both would have preferred death, rather than life with the memory of that loss.

As Ibuki began to play again, she made a wish: that they would always be together, whether in despair or death.

Fortunately for her, if Wish-Granting had ever been a recognized talent, then she had already placed her fate in the hands of a man who could and would make it come true.

* * *

"I need another reason."

Naegi Makoto looked up from the electronic notebook in his hands, gazing into the frowning face of his closest friend. "Excuse me?"

"I need another reason," Kirigiri Kyoko repeated firmly. "I said I wouldn't support or stop you, and I won't. But I still feel that you're walking into this with blinders on. So any other reason you can give me for this decision, beyond what you have so far, would be much appreciated. If not as your boss, then at least as your friend."

Makoto smiled faintly. "You can't just believe in me again?" he asked.

She glared at him. "I do believe in you. I can't say the same for them."

"I'm not surprised you can't see it, but I'm still a little disappointed that you don't." Makoto tapped his notebook's screen once, and then handed it to her. "Look through them one more time, and tell me if anything leaps out at you."

Kyoko grimaced as she looked at the three pictures on the screen. Each showed Remnants of Despair in various acts of terrorism. "I've seen these before, as you well know. I see nothing new."

Makoto sighed. "They're in pairs. That isn't always the case, but it is here."

"And why should that convince you to save them?"

Makoto reached over and tapped the screen. Three new pictures replaced the former ones, but at glance, Kyoko could tell that they were the same people, younger and untainted by despair, in the exact same pairings.

"Where did you get these?" Kyoko asked.

"The Ultimate Archivist owed me a favor, and she managed to save some files from Hope's Peak Academy before everything went wrong."

"I still don't understand. Their friendships survived all this time. What does that matter? They still joined Ultimate Despair. Even Enoshima claimed to love her twin, and that didn't stop her from murdering Ikusaba twice."

"I know. I can even remember those two hanging out a lot at school. There's no doubt they were close. But there's a big difference between these two, and the Remnants. As far as we know, none of the Remnants have turned on each other yet."

"And because of that, you see hope in them?"

"They at least aren't as far gone as Enoshima was. She didn't hesitate to betray. But these bonds are different, I think. No, I know they are. And I want to do something about them before they do end up like Enoshima's. I want to save these guys before they reach the point where they think nothing of betraying each other. These bonds, strong enough to survive such deep despair, should and must be protected. It may just end up being the only thing that can restore them to what they were before being swallowed by despair."

"That sounds like blind hope to me," Kyoko said with a sigh. "But blind hope is still hope, I suppose. Though you're putting a lot of faith in the New World program. Some might say too much."

Makoto smiled. "I have to believe, though. That's my talent, right? It's true we don't know anyone who was saved this way. So these guys will just have to be the first."

* * *

For the third time in ten minutes, Tsumiki Mikan checked her patient's pulse. Not out of any real fear, but because there was nothing else to do. So far, the Despair Disease had proven largely resistant to her efforts to combat it.

Mikan assumed this was because it was a difficult disease to treat, even for an Ultimate Nurse. But lately, she had begun to think that maybe she simply wasn't trying her hardest.

And for some reason, Mikan was having trouble finding any motivation to try at all.

The reason for that was unclear. At least, it was until Mikan looked up to find two other women in the hospital room. She had not heard them enter, and was fairly sure they had made no sound at all while doing so. If she had not recognized them instantly, she would have been alarmed. But as she did recognize them instantly, the only thing she felt was overwhelming joy. Not mere happiness, but drool-inducing, pants-wetting, truly orgasmic joy.

Mikan felt all three, to varying degrees, and could not at first express her feelings.

"You aren't even going to greet me properly, Mikan-chan?" the first woman asked, adding a fake sigh for effect. "That makes me sad."

"No!" Mikan cried in horror, rushing toward her. "Please don't be sad!"

The second woman, who had been behind the first, blurred into movement, neatly tripping Mikan with her foot so that she landed inches from the first woman's boot.

"No touching without permission," the second woman said sternly.

Mikan stared pathetically up at the first woman, who eventually nodded, giving Mikan the honor of tenderly kissing her boot. "Junko-sama," Mikan murmured. "Mukuro-san. Please forgive me for-"

Junko drove her boot hard into Mikan's face. "I said greet _me_ , not her."

Mikan stared up at her with a dazed expression. "I'm so sorry! I thought you'd be offended if I failed to greet your beloved sister!"

Mukuro didn't even have to glance at Junko for permission to kick Mikan in the ribs. "Who said I was beloved, or needed a greeting?"

Junko shook her head sadly. "We've been separated for so long that you've forgotten my preferences, Mikan-chan. But that's okay. I don't mind training you until you're back to my liking again."

"Thank you so much, Junko-sama!" Mikan gushed, drooling a mixture of saliva and blood on the floor.

Though she perhaps should have been disgusted by the sight, Junko grinned her signature evil smile. "I need you to do something for me, Mikan-chan. You'll help me out, won't you?"

"Of course!" Mikan cried at once. "Anything for you!"

At Junko's nod, Mukuro hauled Mikan to her feet and dusted her off. "Well then, listen up." Junko leaned forward, placing a finger beneath Mikan's chin and raising her head. "This isn't real."

Mikan stared at her, clearly not understanding.

"You're asleep right now, and this is a virtual world. The Future Foundation caught you guys and stuck you all in here, in a misguided attempt to save you. But they're playing right into our trap. And that's where you come in, Mikan-chan." She paused, narrowing her eyes as she took in Mikan's dreamy expression. "You do understand so far, right? You're looking a little lost."

Mikan nodded at once. "Yes, I understand. I was just wondering: am I hallucinating you? Or are you part of the virtual world?"

Junko started to answer, then smiled. "Does it really make a difference to you, Mikan-chan? Are you not going to obey me if I'm one or the other?"

Mikan shook her head rapidly. "I will always obey you, Junko-sama! Just... if you're only in my head, I should know, so I don't talk to you while others are around..."

"So your brain is working. Good, I was worried. Anyway, I'm an artificial intelligence that hitched a ride on a virus." Junko paused to slowly twirl a few strands of Mikan's hair around her finger. "I've got plans for this world, but there is just one thing I need: bodies."

The smile on Mikan's face became twisted and sinister. "I will pile their corpses at your feet," she promised softly.

Junko giggled. "I like your spunk, but that's not what I meant."

"You're going to upload yourself into our bodies," Mikan said.

Junko blinked. "So you remember the plan?"

"I'm starting to," Mikan murmured. "When I first saw you here, it all began to come back to me. I must be the only one who remembers."

"It's the Despair Disease," Mukuro explained. "It unlocked your lost memories."

Mikan's eyes teared up. "Junko-sama... you chose me, out of everyone, to remember you? Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"Thank me by taking care of Ibuki here," Junko replied, pointing at the sleeping girl in the hospital bed. "In this condition, she won't give you any trouble. And even though it doesn't really matter if you get caught or not, don't make it easy for them."

Mikan nodded eagerly. "There is something you should know, Junko-sama."

Junko stared at her with a smug smile. Between the surveillance cameras and the formidable mind she was patterned after, there was precious little happening in this virtual world that she did not know. But all the same, she was curious as to what Mikan actually thought might be hidden from her.

Mikan moved closer, well into Junko's personal space, and brought her lips to Junko's ear. "I can't wait until you're inside me," Mikan whispered with a throaty giggle.

Junko closed her eyes and only barely resisted the urge to laugh. "Oh, I can't wait, either..."

* * *

The voice brought her back, as it had several times before.

"Good morning, Koizumi-san."

Koizumi Mahiru slowly opened her eyes, taking in the surrounding field of white, and the red eyes staring down at her. Where someone else might have found them alarming, to her they were familiar, though a little off-putting.

"Hello, Hinata-kun," she said softly.

It was very faint, but she saw it: a slight narrowing of his eyes, and a sign that things would never be the same. This person was not Hinata Hajime, was still adjusting to being called that name. But he had chosen to live as Hajime, so he was going to have to put up with it. She doubted anyone on the island would ever use the other name.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better." She paused, frowning thoughtfully. "Are we... still in the-?"

"Yes."

"Ah." Mahiru bit her lip worriedly. "My body. Is it so damaged?"

"No. Because your talent was not as physically demanding as some others, you were rarely placed in situations where you could be damaged. And you apparently had not chosen to sacrifice it to the degree that others did theirs. No, your body is not the problem. Your mind is. You know that you are not dead. I have no doubt that your body is ready to accept that as truth. But I question if your mind has accepted the whole truth. Can you prove me wrong?"

Mahiru hesitated, but knew what he wanted to hear. "My actions, and my inaction, have resulted in people dying. Their blood is on my hands. No one else is responsible but me. I can shoulder that burden now. I won't run from it. It won't be easy, but I will learn to bear it."

"Excellent." His hand appeared before her. "You're ready. Come with me."

She hesitated. "My body... will I recognize it?"

"Yes. But you will not be able to ignore it."

He had warned her, more than once, but Mahiru had not really been able to appreciate it. Not until Hajime was helping her out of the sleeping pod, and she caught a glimpse of the pod to the right of her. The person inside was a cruel parody of a human being, as if someone had tightly stretched false skin over a skeleton. But then she saw the dark hair on the head, recognized it, and very nearly vomited right there.

Poor, poor Akane. The very idea that she had willingly done this to her own body, and likely destroyed any chance of ever making use of her talent again... it was too much.

Hajime whisked Mahiru to a restroom just in time to avoid a real mess. But there the nightmare continued, as Mahiru lifted her damp face and stared into the mirror, gazing in horror at her crimson eyes. She knew, instinctively, that no matter how much joy she experienced from then on, that final, physical taint of despair would never leave her. And she would not be the only one.

"It gets better," said a soft voice behind her.

Mahiru whirled around, gasped, and then burst into happy tears as she hugged the owner of the familiar face. "Pekoyama-san!"

For Pekoyama Peko, this was awkward for many reasons, but she allowed it and hesitantly returned the hug. Mahiru seemed to become aware of this a few seconds later, and quickly let go.

"Um, sorry," Mahiru blurted out nervously.

Peko stared at her. "I was under the impression that Hinata had told you everything. As in absolutely everything."

"He did."

Peko frowned. "And you not only have no issue with hugging me, but actually _apologized_ for it?"

"Oh. That." Mahiru hesitated, then asked, "Did you see Akane?"

Peko nodded gravely. "Unfortunately."

"I guess I'm so glad to see anyone else that doesn't look that way, I didn't think about anything else. And your eyes have always been red, so... it was a relief to see you, looking like you."

"I can understand that."

Mahiru glanced away nervously, then began to twiddle her thumbs. "So, um... should we talk about it?"

Peko grimaced. "Koizumi-san, are you actually asking me if we should discuss the circumstances of me murdering you?"

"In the virtual world," Mahiru added, in what she seemed to think was a reasonable tone.

"I do not think you fully appreciate the truth. Had I had enough information earlier, I still would have killed you in the real world."

"Oh." Mahiru was suddenly painfully aware that if there was a fight, her talent would do her no good against Peko. Especially since she wasn't even carry a camera, and of course, Peko was carry her ever-present wrapped sword.

"However," Peko went on, "I did kill you, and Fuyuhiko has come to regret his role in that. You have nothing to fear from us now. If you desire an apology, you need only ask."

"So he's okay, too? How long have you two-? Wait, didn't you used to only call him 'young master' or something? You're using his name now?"

To Mahiru's shock, Peko blushed. "Our relationship has changed. We decided to cast away our past lives. I am no longer his tool, but a woman he has chosen to stand beside."

Mahiru smiled. "That's wonderful. I'm happy for you two."

"You are, aren't you?" Peko asked. "Why? We were never really friends."

"You already changed one relationship." Mahiru offered her hand to Peko. "Maybe you can change another?"

After a pause, Peko grasped Mahiru's hand. "Maybe I can."

 **End of Chapter 1.**

* * *

 **Continued in Chapter 2: Omega-77**

In which Makoto has trouble mediating between the Future Foundation and Omega-77. No one will agree to meet in person, the AI representatives are rather opinionated, and Makoto would prefer to be anywhere else.

* * *

 **Endnotes:**

I know Ibuki's songs don't look or sound anything like the one shown here. I'm a former poet and I just have to rhyme song lyrics that I write. Plus I have a hard time imagining Hiyoko being able to consistently dance to Ibuki's usual music. No other reason than that.

Much as I don't care for the... expansion of Mukuro's character, I still feel she deserved more screen time as herself. So, the Junko AI has an additional lackey.

It was a fake Makoto that told us, but clearly the Remnants of Despair damaging their own bodies was true. I expected Hajizu to restore them, but I figured there would be lasting damage. But that only seemed to apply to Fuyuhiko and Nagito. In particular I thought whoever starved themselves to skin and bones would be immediately obvious, even after they recovered. I stared at the screenshot for a while, and tried to put a face to it. The person seems to have long, dark hair. Which rules out all but one guy, because there is no way Teruteru's body could look like that. So Akane and Ibuki seem to be the more likely suspects. I feel certain the one that tried to have children with the corpse was Teruteru or Mikan, because reasons. Maybe Kazuichi if he put a Sonia mask on it.

Neat as Hajizu is, I did not expect the fusion to be so quick and clean. What you see here is more what I had in mind: Izuru trying to live as Hajime. Which is immediately noticeable to anyone that's known Hajime for any length of time.


	2. Omega-77

**Despair for the Hopeful**

 **A Danganronpa Fanfic by**

 **Nate Grey, Ultimate Procrastinator (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**  
 **Chapter 2: Omega-77**

* * *

Makoto arrived at the conference room twenty minutes early. He double-checked the two laptop computers on the table, found them to be in working order, and hoped that this was a sign that the meeting would go well.

Five minutes before nine o'clock, a face appeared on the first laptop. "Hello, Naegi-san," it said cordially.

Makoto smiled at the foolishness of it all. They had seen each other no more than an hour ago. "Hello, Alter Ego. Glad you could make it."

"Really? I'm not." Alter Ego pouted. "I hate to say this, but I really don't like that woman!"

This was... unusual, to say the least. Alter Ego had been the pet project of one Fujisaki Chihiro, who was among the nicest people Makoto had ever met. Likewise, Alter Ego had been patterned after Chihiro, so he was equally nice. And yet there was only one person, or rather fellow AI, that he had absolutely no patience for.

So of course she had been selected as the spokesperson of Omega-77, better known as the former 77th Class of Hope's Peak Academy. Based on everything Makoto had learned of them afterward, he was not at all surprised by the choice.

At exactly nine o'clock, the face of Nanami Chiaki appeared on the second laptop. However, her face was tilted downward slightly, instead of looking at Makoto or Alter Ego. Clearly, her attention was elsewhere, and the reason was fairly obvious.

"Did you actually bring a _game_ to this meeting?!" Alter Ego cried in disgust.

"Yes," she replied, still not looking up.

"You're being very rude!"

"I'm being very accurate," she corrected calmly. "You were patterned after your creator, and you act accordingly. Both my core memory files and my classmates indicate that I am behaving within the accepted limits established by my big sisters." Still not looking up, she raised a hand in greeting to Makoto. "Good evening, Naegi-san. Hinata sends his apologies for being unable to attend."

Makoto smiled. "Nice to see you, Nanami-san. I know Hinata is busy, but please stress to him that the Future Foundation is very eager to speak with him directly."

"About that," Chiaki said, finally looking up. "We don't trust or like them very much. Hinata prefers that all correspondence between our two sides takes place between you and I from now on. I thought it was a good idea, too."

"Why is that?" Makoto asked.

Chiaki shrugged. "I told him that I thought you were nice. That was good enough for him."

Makoto laughed a little nervously. "Ah... thank you, I guess?"

"For what?" Chiaki asked, showing signs of wanting to go back to her game.

"Uh, it's not important. Are you sure Hinata won't change his mind about this?"

"Why would he? Why should he? You're with the Future Foundation, and I'm talking to you with no problem. Why should that change?"

Makoto cleared his throat. "Well, as I'm sure you know, my helping you guys wasn't exactly approved of. There's a very good chance I'll be out of contact for a while, depending on how things go for me. So I was hoping you'd at least agree to stay in contact with someone else in the meantime."

Chiaki shook her head. "Hinata won't agree to that. Unless it's you or one of the other two who was with you, we don't consider anyone else trustworthy." She tilted her head to the side. "If they arrest you, we don't mind arranging a jailbreak. It could be fun."

Makoto glanced at Alter Ego, who seemed torn between outrage at them planning to defy the Future Foundation, and jealousy at being left out of a plan to help Makoto. "I appreciate the offer, Nanami-san, but I'll pass. I'm sure I'll be able to work something out on my own."

"Okay, but I think you're underestimating what jerks they can be," Chiaki said.

"You take that back!" Alter Ego cried. "The Future Foundation are not jerks!"

Chiaki gave him a flat stare. "People that try to arrest or kill my friends are jerks. And AIs that try to defend those people are even bigger jerks. Jerk. You should be upset, too. They're going to put our friend in jail."

"We don't know that for sure," Makoto pointed out. "So maybe we should stop talking like it's a certainty."

Chiaki leaned forward and whispered loudly behind her hand, as if Alter Ego couldn't hear her just fine. "Nice guys finish last and go to jail. So if I don't hear from you in forty-eight hours, then-"

"Assume I'm busy and don't rush to my rescue."

Chiaki pouted. "Aww. I wanted to do a real jailbreak. I even got a jail game so I could practice. Nothing but top scores, if that changes your mind at all?"

Makoto shook his head. "If I do end up in jail, then the last thing I want is for someone to break me out. That would only cast more suspicion on me. I don't regret what I did, and if that means some jail time, then so be it."

"See? You're way too nice. That's really no good for jail."

"Stop saying that!" Alter Ego snapped, though Makoto could detect a hint of pleading as well. "He isn't going to jail! I'm sure that once he explains everything, the Future Foundation will understand that his intentions were good!"

"Good intentions are why I'm the third and only surviving Chiaki. And I'm sure I don't need to remind you where they got your creator, either. I would rather they not do the same here. Unless you secretly want Naegi to die and be converted into an AI."

Alter Ego was clearly appalled by the accusation. "What?! No! I'm just saying that I believe in him, and I believe that he can work this out!"

Chiaki shook her head. "Except that hope rarely works on irrational people. And anyone who would put Naegi in jail is irrational. So good luck with that. If all we're going to talk about is ways that you aren't going to help him, I'd like to go now. Maybe I'll give you my news later."

"News?" Makoto asked. "What news? Is it something about Hinata?"

"Sort of. The first of my classmates are already awake. Hinata was able to help them recover."

"That's great!" Makoto laughed, but then he froze. "Wait. Are they... still Ultimate Despair?"

"Hinata was very careful about that. Before he woke each one up, he told them their entire past. Everything. That way, any decision they made would be a completely informed one."

"That doesn't answer my question, Nanami-san," Makoto pointed out with growing concern.

"I'm aware," Chiaki replied with a nod. "If you're asking if anyone woke up singing the praises of despair, they did not. If you're asking if they would never do anything to benefit the spread of despair again, I can't say. All I know for sure is that they are grateful, to you and to Hinata, for what you did for them. Beyond that, you would have to ask each one yourself."

"I'm not sure if that's news I can share with the Future Foundation with any real confidence," Makoto murmured. "At worst, they might brand me the new leader of Ultimate Despair."

Chiaki looked smug. "See? Irrational people. Don't worry, though. If they execute you on the spot, we'll blow something up in your honor. Oh, and we can use the residual brain patterns from your time in the Neo World Program to make an AI based on you. Then you can hang out with me and play games as much as you want." By the end, she looked very happy about the idea.

"So you're the one that really wants to turn him into an AI!" Alter Ego shouted.

Chiaki's smile faded. "I don't _want_ to. But if irrational people kill him, I want him to know there's still a bright side. And no offense, but I think he'd rather be stuck with a cute girl, instead of a cute boy dressed like a cute girl."

* * *

They each had to accept their painful personal truth before waking up. For Sonia, it was the fact that she had obliterated her home country of Novoselic, turned its military into an army of despair, and gleefully handed over her family to be executed. There was nothing and no one left for her there, and even if there had been, they would have cursed her name until the end of their days.

She had been born and raised for the sole purpose of being a princess, and had completely erased any reason for her old existence. So she either had to die, or find a new reason to live. And perhaps she had known that subconsciously, even as a Remnant of Despair, and chosen the former. That would explain why she had allowed her body to waste away to nothingness, as Akane had.

Hajime had restored them, of course. But Sonia's body would never be the same. Standing, walking, running, having children. These things were apparently beyond her now. But Sonia felt that existing in such a way was her penance. She believed that Hajime had done his best to heal her. That is, until just before she woke up, and Hajime had told her his personal truth.

Within him was the ability to restore each of them, to the way they had been before they fell into despair. It would have taken longer, but ultimately it would have been no great sacrifice to someone of Hajime's talent. He had made them all choose, and he had chosen as well: to have them each live with a constant reminder of the choices they made and could not undo.

Sonia could not bring herself to hate him. She never wanted to be able to forget the horrors she had committed in the name of despair, and if this was how that happened, then so be it. It was a penance she would live with. But she was glad that Hajime chose not to tell the others. They were equally guilty, but she did not think they would all be able to forgive his cruelty.

She did not even have time to adjust to the wheelchair that Kazuichi built for her. Gundham was awake, and determined to seek out every animal that had lost its home in the war. He wanted to create a sanctuary on Jabberwock Island, and once he had Hajime's approval, there was nothing stopping him. Sonia was flattered when he asked her to manage their "new kingdom" in his absence: they both knew what that meant. She had agreed (over Kazuichi's wailing protests) for two reasons.

First, because Gundham could see past her disability, and he would make her feel like the queen that she could never be.

Second, in her kingdom of New Novoselic, no one would look at her with eyes of hatred. No one would care about the family name that she had tainted and cast away. All anyone cared about was the gentle hands she used to nurture, the welcoming smile she gave to every new arrival, and the infinite patience she showed to each inhabitant.

New Novoselic would take time to build up properly, but now she had plenty of time, and cherished comrades willing to aid her. As Gundham would say, the seal on the last daughter of the Nevermind family had been broken, and the glorious queen Tanaka Sonia had emerged from within, ready to guide her animal subjects into a bright and long-lasting future.

* * *

It was far from unusual to see a Monokuma in Towa City. In fact, most surviving residents generally agreed that the white and black terrors outnumbered them, so it could even be said that the bears were residents. A case could even be made for Monokumas being the obvious town mascot, a distinction they had earned by tearing apart any and all opposition.

Likewise, it was also not unusual to see a Monokuma behaving strangely. Their go-to behavior was ripping apart anything in their path, with a focus on humans. There were the exceptions of other Monokumas and allied humans, but no one else was expected to survive a meeting with them. Yet it was clear that whoever was controlling them had their own quirks, because Monokumas had taken an occasional break from slaughtering to gather in large groups and dance, of all things. So really, the only thing that passed for strange from them was not actively pursuing any un-allied person they came across.

Which was exactly what was happening that morning. What appeared to be every Monokuma in the city was hurrying in the same direction, completely ignoring any person they came across.

There was a simple explanation for this: every Monokuma built by Towa Group was, unless specifically altered from the general template, programmed to obey certain people without hesitation. And one of those people had summoned every Monokuma in the city to their side.

Sort of.

Someone with the apparent authority to do so was ordering the Monokumas.

Someone who matched the vocal and physical profile of an authorized person was indeed waiting in the designated location. The fact that the authorized person was notably taller and considerably heavier than they had been only a day before meant nothing, simply because the Monokumas could detect no difference between the two.

And as the actual authorized person was sleeping soundly at the time, due to a precise application of knockout gas, she could not voice any protest.

"Monokumas," the supposed authorized person said. "Activate self-destruct sequence, with timers set for one minute."

The red eye of every Monokuma in attendance lit up to signify the confirmed command, and then the countdown began.

The person they all recognized as Monaca sighed and sat down to await death. It had been a rather interesting life, all things considered. That large portions of it had been unlawfully borrowed from unwilling participants, well... that was life. But in death, this person would accomplish something that would hopefully dwarf any other deed within that stolen half-life: the liberation of Towa City.

Much of the population was dead, and this rescue was coming far too late, but it was still something that even the Future Foundation had been unable to manage.

And suddenly, ten seconds from the explosion, it wasn't enough.

This person wanted to die at the top of his game, at the peak of his manliness, at the height of his meaning. He did not want to die dressed as one of the most evil children in recent history, wearing Monokuma hair clips.

He did not want his body to be associated with her, any more than it already had been.

With only a second before detonation, he transformed, and then met his end with the smug grin of a true noble.

That final choice came with a price, but not for him.

For even reformed agents of despair, with their eyes set firmly on hope, cannot help but leave a little despair in their wake.

* * *

Mikan had not come to support him, but to collect his remains, if any. She had volunteered to do that much. Whatever else they were now, they had once dined from the same plate of despair. This was the least she could do for a fallen comrade.

But she had been distracted: by the many cute Monokumas, by all the destruction, by the lovely Monobits and Monopieces scattered in all directions. Quite frankly, she had forgotten all about her task for a while, and instead focused entirely on the pleasure radiating throughout her body.

It was only when Mikan heard the two female voices approaching that she realized how long she'd been there. Cursing herself, she peeked out from her hiding place, and was startled to realize that she recognized one of the girls.

Though Mikan was too far away to make out their words, it was clear that they were arguing. The older girl was insisting on searching through the site of explosion, but the younger girl kept trying to pull her away, likely fearing that it was too dangerous. They struggled for a moment, and then the older whipped out some sort of device, which she jabbed at her own head. In a flash, the struggle was over: the older girl easily overpowered the younger, and then tossed her away without another thought. She was hyper-focused on searching the site, and would not be distracted any longer.

"Fukawa," Mikan murmured, finally recalling the older girl's name. Really, it was a wonder she'd ever forgotten such a... unique individual.

Fukawa (though that was clearly not the name she answered to at the moment) continued to search frantically until she found what she had, or perhaps, hadn't wanted to find. She let out a howl like a wounded animal, and then began beating the ground with her fists, hard and frequently enough that she was surely injuring herself.

The younger girl eventually recovered and again tried to pull Fukawa away. This time, Fukawa lashed out immediately and without mercy, and Mikan moaned in ecstacy as she saw blood fly. The younger girl crumpled to the ground, clutching her neck. But Fukawa again lost all interest in her, and went back to beating the ground.

Neither of them noticed the lone Monokuma, badly damaged but still somehow functional, slowly limping its way toward them. It would reach the younger girl first, but if it exploded that close, Fukawa would die as well. Mikan assumed she knew what would happen, and was quickly proven wrong.

In a final burst of strength, the Monokuma began to run at its two victims. It tripped on something, fell, and began to roll uncontrollably. It rolled past the younger girl, collided with Fukawa, and dragged her along for the ride. They rolled out of Mikan's line of sight, and seconds later, the explosion came.

Mikan felt certain that she had just witnessed a display of luck that would make Komaeda envious. That called for a slight change in plans.

* * *

Hanamura Teruteru was the first to leave for good. He gave no reasons, and no one asked for any. He simply asked to be left out of whatever they decided to do. And perhaps so the parting would not seem so final, he left behind all of his cookbooks, so that anyone who wanted to learn, could do so.

No one else showed any interest, so Sonia took all of the cookbooks. Much to her shock, she found an envelope addressed to her in the very first book that she opened. In it, Teruteru apologized for not being able to see to her dietary needs personally. But he had included personalized menus for Sonia and Akane that he felt would help them recover quickly.

Sonia wondered at her good fortune, to have selected the very book that contained such an important message. But, on a whim, she checked another book. And another. And another, until she had gone through them all.

The same note was in every single book in Teruteru's collection. Though he had been unable to stay, he still cared for them, and wanted the best for them. And if he had not made his wish to be left alone so clear, Sonia would have made the effort to find him, just to thank him in person. But if being alone was what he needed to find peace, she would give him that, however reluctantly.

* * *

 **Continued in Chapter 3: Between Hope and Despair**

In which Monaca makes new friends and ends up exactly where she wants to be. Meanwhile, Komaru ends up in neutral territory, which is exactly where she no longer wishes to be.

* * *

Endnote:

Even if Mikan and Toko met at school, I doubt either would remember the other. But there is always a slight chance that Toko may have fainted, vanished, and then reappeared in the infirmary with no explanation. Also I think her general behavior and smell is hard to forget.


	3. Between Hope and Despair

Notes: This story should be done fairly quickly. I know where I want it to go, I have the steps mostly planned up to the end. It's just a question of how many chapters it shapes up to be. My guess is around seven, but certainly not ten.

* * *

 **Despair for the Hopeful**

 **A Danganronpa Fanfic by**

 **Nate Grey, Ultimate Procrastinator (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

 **Chapter 3: Between Hope and Despair**

* * *

The daily breakfasts resumed with an ease that bordered on disturbing, as if they were still trapped in the virtual world. The only ones on the island who chose not to attend were Akane and Nekomaru. Akane physically couldn't under her own power just yet, and she insisted on being able to walk there. Nekomaru was overseeing every moment of her rehabilitation, and only left her side for bathroom breaks, and only then because she insisted on it. In both cases, it was not a matter of disliking the group, but of personal pride that kept them away. And it would not do so for long, if they had their way.

The breakfasts were also an obvious way to determine who all Hajime had been able to restore, and who still needed more time to heal. Fuyuhiko assisted by watching the sleeping pods closely for any changes. Although he lacked the detailed medical knowledge to accurately state how much anyone had improved, it was a task he had taken up voluntarily as one of the first to awaken. He was the third-most familiar with the Neo World program's operating system, without constantly being inside it, and Hajime had entrusted the island's security to him.

Fuyuhiko quickly proved this to be a wise decision. His management skills were surprisingly better than Sonia's: like her, his life had been sheltered, but he was a hands-on leader, where Sonia had been trained more as a leader that did not often speak directly to her subjects. The best example of this distinction was Peko, who had been with Fuyuhiko virtually every day of their lives. Sonia had attendants growing up, but they had been rotated out every so often, so she never had the chance to feel close to any, and certainly not to the point where she'd wanted one to accompany her in her travels abroad.

So when Ibuki was the last to wake up, it was Fuyuhiko who shocked everyone by giving her a piggyback ride all the way to the breakfast table. It could easily be explained away by the fact that Ibuki surely needed some help getting around after sleeping the longest. But he also filled up a plate, brought it to her, and commanded her to eat everything on it. Which Ibuki instantly agreed to by playfully biting his thumb. Where Fuyuhiko once might have attacked her to get free, he only rubbed her head, until she happily released him.

"Did that actually happen, or am I still dreaming?" Kazuichi whispered, drawing a laugh from nearly everyone.

Hiyoko was not laughing. She was staring at Ibuki, who stopped laughing and stared right back.

Hajime had told them everything. Absolutely everything. He was the only one could, as he had watched Ultimate Despair from the shadows. There was no memory loss this time, and so no excuse.

They both knew, and they couldn't forget. Whether they wanted to or not was another issue entirely.

Hiyoko summoned her courage and made the first move. She stood up, walked over to Ibuki, and stiffly stretched out her hand, offering a pack of gummi bears. "I got too many," she muttered. "You can have these, if you want."

 _I'm scared._

Ibuki smiled, but it was strangely lopsided, even for her. "Of course I want them!"

 _I'm scared, too._

"Y-You don't have take them. It's fine if you don't want to. I don't care either way."

 _I can't let you get that close again. I can't lose something that important all over again. Especially since I know I'll remember it this time._

Ibuki's smile faded. "I want them, Hiyoko-chan," she said softly. "Really. I'll always want them."

 _I know it wasn't right. I know it wasn't fair. I know it shouldn't have been at all. I know we should both pretend it never happened, and just go back to being friends, if that's possible. But as wrong as it was... I think, deep down, we were happy. No, I know I was. And you-_

"It's fine if you don't, though," Hiyoko insisted, louder than she meant to. "If you never want to-"

 _I don't want to have to forget what you meant to me a second time. I can't. I won't!_

Ibuki's hand slowly closed over the pack of gummies, their fingers gently brushing and intertwining in the process.

 _You don't have to. I'll remember for us both. I won't let anyone ever take away a memory that precious to me again. I promise. So believe in me. Believe that the love you carved into my heart will always be there, no matter what happens to my head._

"W-Well," Hiyoko said, blushing slightly as she tried to tug her hand away. "Enjoy."

"Aren't they better with a friend?" Ibuki asked, a hint of pleading in her voice.

Hiyoko bit her lip, wanting and needing to refuse, but knowing she wouldn't.

Peko, who was seated next to Ibuki, cleared her throat. "You can have my seat, Saionji-san. You two clearly have much to talk about."

Hiyoko quickly shook her head. "No, that's not-"

Ibuki yanked hard, spilling Hiyoko across her lap. Then she began to tickle mercilessly, grinning as Hiyoko shrieked and laughed and writhed helplessly for several seconds.

"Okay, I give up!" Hiyoko finally managed to shout.

Ibuki immediately stopped tickling, and pulled Hiyoko upright until she was straddling Ibuki's lap. "If you give up that easy, I'll always get my way," Ibuki warned with a huge grin.

"So I'll win next time, just you wait and see!" Hiyoko snapped, grabbing Ibuki's shoulders and giving her a shake.

Ibuki laughed and settled her hands on Hiyoko's hips. "Sounds like fun, Hiyoko-chan."

Suddenly, a nearby monitor lit up, and Chiaki's face appeared on it. "Sorry to interrupt, everyone, but I have news."

Everyone quickly fell silent.

"I have been tracking the news reports. The mission was a success. Towa City has been liberated, and Monaca is in Future Foundation custody." Chiaki paused and frowned. "Our friend is dead."

Fuyuhiko raised his glass in a silent toast, and the others followed his example.

"And Mikan?" Hajime asked after a moment. "Is she safe?"

"Yes, she's on her way back now. With a gift. She would only say that it's especially for Komaeda."

Komaeda Nagito immediately perked up, grinning. "A gift for me? How thoughtful of her! I can hardly wait!"

"Yeah, but it's a gift from Mikan," Kazuichi reminded him nervously. "Maybe you should wait."

Mikan was not like the rest of them. After Hajime had told her everything, she had asked to be put back the way she was, as a member of Ultimate Despair. Hajime had done so. But the Mikan that emerged was not quite what they had feared she would be.

She still considered them all as friends, for one thing. Friends who agreed to disagree with how she lived her life, but still friends. It was unclear if this was a stipulation Hajime had insisted on, a feature that Mikan had requested, or simply a natural result of everything Mikan had experienced. No one dared to ask.

The clumsy, apologetic, well-meaning Mikan was gone. In her place was a ruthless, despair-addicted woman who adored Junko, and would never stop spreading despair for as long as she lived. But she agreed to view their home as neutral ground, and would occasionally agree to requests from Hajime, if she was allowed to carry them out in her own way. She was happy to provide medical attention, although she now had a habit of either groping or outright molesting anyone entrusted to her care. Kazuichi had gone to her with what he thought was a cold, and burst out of her clinic minutes later with a red face and no pants. No one else knew what had happened between them, but Kazuichi kept his distance from then on.

* * *

Tengan Kazuo studied the two people sitting on the other side of his desk with a mixture of interest and wariness. "I hear that you two have a rather unusual proposal for me," he said calmly, "concerning our latest prisoner."

This drew an immediate reaction, but only from one of them: Yukizome Chisa frowned, looking as if she wanted to protest. A hand on her shoulder stopped her, however, and she merely lowered her head.

"Forgive me, Tengan-san," Munakata Kyosuke responded, "but it was our understanding that Monaca was only being held as a person of interest. What exactly has caused her status to be changed to that of a prisoner?"

"An anonymous report that came across my desk recently. I have no reason to trust anything within it. And yet, if I accept everything in it as truth, then Monaca is more dangerous than any one Remnant of Despair, and possibly a threat on the same level as Enoshima Junko."

"That just isn't true!" Yukizome shouted, ignoring Munakata's hand squeezing her shoulder.

Tengan eyed her for a long moment. "You have some conflicting evidence? I would be happy to hear it. As I said, my source was anonymous, and cannot be contacted for confirmation on any point in the report."

"I've spoken with that girl," Yukizome said simply.

Tengan narrowed his eyes. "I was told that the prisoner refused to speak to anyone."

"That was true, at first," Yukizome agreed. "Maybe they were already treating her like a prisoner, and she acted accordingly. I tried a different approach: I gave her some sweets, and offered to listen if she had anything to say."

"And that worked?" Tengan asked.

"Not at first. I had to sit there for a while. But once she realized that I wasn't going anywhere, and that I really did care about what she had to say, we had a rather long conversation."

"And it is your belief that she is not dangerous at all?"

Yukizome hesitated before answering. "I can't truthfully say that. But I also think it would be a tremendous waste to let her rot in a cell. I won't ignore the horrible things she is accused of, and I'm not even suggesting that she is innocent. But as young as she is, and as talented as she is, I don't think this has to be the end of her story. If she hasn't been tainted by despair, then this may be our only chance to protect her. And if she has been, maybe showing her some kindness will change her way of thinking. The fact is, we've been hacked before, and the 7th Division is always looking for new blood. Surely it couldn't hurt to at least run the idea past Gekkogahara?"

Tengan turned to Munakata. "And you support this idea?"

"There's no denying that Enoshima either killed or recruited some of the world's best programmers," Munakata admitted. "Though I believe Monaca should pay for her crimes, if any, I don't think we can afford to ignore a chance to put her talents to use for us. If Gekkogahara believes that Monaca's value outweighs her risk, then perhaps it is worth exploring. And if not, then an enemy with a useful talent sounds like a perfect candidate for the Neo World program."

Yukizome frowned at him, but said nothing. Much as she didn't like his way of thinking, she clearly realized that it might keep Monaca alive. Even though that could mean taking away some of the core memories that made her Monaca.

* * *

The ship arrived in the middle of the night, and Hajime was the only one on the dock waiting to greet it. Mikan's decision to return to her former self had distanced her from the others, but Hajime could not judge her as they did. That was the time when Mikan had truly been happiest with herself.

Mikan was in high spirits as she stepped onto the dock, a sure sign that she'd recently seen some suffering, and likely enough to feed her despair addiction for some time. Upon spotting Hajime, her smile became wider, even as a telltale blush rose in her cheeks. Apparently, she had not indulged in her other addiction in some time, and she was not really picky about her partners.

"Hi, Hajime," she cooed, twirling a loose strand of her long hair around her finger as she approached him. "I'm so glad you waited for me!"

What Hajime did next was not done out of love, but dedication. In assuming command of Jabberwock Island and restoring his classmates, he had become responsible for all of them. Whether they prospered or degraded was entirely up to him, and it was a job he took very seriously. He knew what would become of Mikan, if her needs were not met. And he was not about to allow that to happen to a friend.

Mikan gasped in delight as Hajime seized her firmly by the waist, drew her close to him, and planted his lips on hers. Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck, her fingers digging into his hair and pulling his head downward, deepening the kiss.

There was no real enjoyment for Hajime. To him, this was no different than giving Mikan some much-needed medicine, or bandaging her wounds. It was simply something to keep her whole, and just as important, to keep her coming home, and seeing the island as her home at all.

Mikan was the one to break the kiss, a giddy smile on her lips as she played with his hair. "Oh, Hajime, I do love you," she sighed happily, staring into his eyes. "Not as much as my beloved, but closer than anyone else."

"Thank you, Mikan. It's good to have you back." He glanced behind her as a white and pink Monokuma wearing a nurse's cap approached them, carrying a black urn with obvious reverence.

Mikan accepted the urn and patted the Monokuma's head. "Thank you, dear. Be just as careful with the other two."

"Someone other than our friend died?" Hajime asked.

"I suppose the other person could also be considered a friend. Or at least one of our juniors. I remember seeing her in the infirmary a few times, but I don't think we ever actually spoke. And her death was so entertaining, I couldn't just leave her there after that."

A moment later, two white and pink Monokumas wheeled out a gurney with a body on it. As it got closer, Hajime recognized the very pale face of Fukawa Toko. That would need to be reported to the Future Foundation, if only so he could not be accused of concealing it, and possibly having something to do with her death.

"Should we bury her here?" Mikan asked. "She wasn't really one of us."

"We'll leave that up to her classmates," Hajime replied. "If they demand her body, we'll give it to them. If not, she can stay." Even as the words left his mouth, he knew that Fukawa could not possibly be the gift that Mikan had brought for Komaeda. He had little interest in the 78th class beyond two specific individuals, and Fukawa hadn't been one of the two.

Before Hajime could ask, a final gurney was unloaded. This one was equipped with an IV stand, and the female body on the gurney was not as pale. Hajime looked at the face as it passed, but there was no recognition: he had never seen this girl before, and if she had an Ultimate Talent, it was not obvious to him simply by looking at her, which was odd in itself. Curious, he looked to Mikan, who giggled.

"I know, right?" she said. "Absolutely no reason why I should have saved her, is what you're thinking. But you wouldn't be saying that, if you'd seen what I'd seen! Komaeda is just going to love her!"

"I'll have to trust your instincts on this one, Mikan." Hajime smiled at her. "You worked hard for us, and you deserve a reward. Do you have something in mind?"

"I could use a nice, hot shower," Mikan said. Then she licked her lips suggestively and latched onto his arm. "And someone to share it with."

"Talking to you does always leave me feeling dirty, so I think we can arrange that."

* * *

Monaca's cell was one in name only. It more closely resembled a child's bedroom, but with surveillance cameras. If the Future Foundation hoped to gain some sort of proof of Monaca's alleged crimes with them, they were disappointed.

Monaca played with the dolls and games provided. She read the books. She even spent a few hours a day staring at the cameras with a big frown, as if to ask why they were being so mean to her.

It would have pleased her to no end, to learn that three of her watchmen had requested to be reassigned after only a few hours of her innocence.

The moment she saw the man in the white suit, she knew he would not be so easy to break. Not without help. And fortunately, he had brought help with him.

"Yukizome-sensei!" Monaca chirped, running over and pressing her hands eagerly to the glass separating them.

The man in the suit glanced questioningly at Yukizome. "Does she always call you that?"

Yukizome smiled. "I told her that I used to be a teacher, and she just latched onto it. But I haven't taught her anything worthy of the title."

"That's not true!" Monaca protested. "You taught me I didn't have to be afraid here, because you're with me!"

Yukizome knelt down and pressed her hand to the glass. "Monaca-chan, will you agree to come with me for a while? There's someone I'd like you to meet, and if you answer her questions, maybe you won't have to stay in this room so much."

Monaca glanced at the man in white. "Is he your boyfriend?"

Very much aware of his eyes on her, Yukizome blushed and said, "Sure, let's go with that for now."

"Okay, I'll go with you."

Two minutes later, Monaca was out of her cell, walking hand-in-hand with Yukizome, as if she had ceased to be a prisoner at all. And perhaps she had.

* * *

"-begin whenever you're ready."

She gasped and sat up at once, blinking rapidly as she turned in the direction of the unfamiliar voice. They were sitting in an office, one that might have belonged to a therapist. He was in a nearby chair, and she was sitting on a couch.

"I suggest we begin with introductions," he said. "Hinata Hajime. I was a student at Hope's Peak Academy."

Her eyes widened. "Did you know brother?! Naegi Makoto? Do you know if he's okay?"

He stared at her, slowly taking in that information. "I was not aware. Yes, I know him, though we didn't properly meet until after we had both left school. We have kept in touch, and he is safe for the time being, but not in an enviable position. I fear I am partially to blame for that. Perhaps recovering you can begin to make up for that debt. May I have your name now, Naegi-san?"

"Oh, right," she said, laughing nervously. "It's Komaru. Nice to meet you, Hinata-san." She hesitated, glanced around the room, and finally asked, "Where are we?"

Hajime paused to consider how best to answer that. "The answer to that is not a simple one. You are familiar with how students are usually chosen for Hope's Peak?"

"Uh, I think so. You're best of the best, right?"

"For the most part, yes. My classmates and I have come into possession of an island that we made into something of a sanctuary. That is where you are, physically. On this island, however, is what we call the Neo World program. It is a virtual world that we use for therapeutic purposes. This is also where you are now, though your body is essentially asleep."

Komaru stared at him. "O...kay? Is that why we're in a therapist's office?"

"That is the background I chose for this introduction. I hoped you would find it relaxing."

"Well, it's better than anywhere I've been recently," she admitted.

"I can imagine. One of my classmates brought you here, hoping to save your life." He stopped there, wondering if Komaru would be able to fill in the blanks herself. He saw, from the way her face went pale, that she did. "I see that you are remembering now."

Komaru nodded slowly, reaching up to feel along her neck.

"There is a scar, in the real world, I'm afraid."

"Oh." Komaru bit her lip. "Hey, is she... dead?"

"Fukawa Toko?" At Komaru's nod, he also nodded. "Yes."

Tears sprang to Komaru's eyes, but she quickly wiped them on her arm. "I thought so. I mean, the explosion sounded so close. And the way she was then, she wouldn't have cared about her own life."

"May I ask how you can be so sure?"

"She kept saying that she had a sick feeling in her heart, that he was dead. The guy she loved. And when we got there, she found some scraps of clothing, and she just knew. Poor Toko. And poor Byakuya."

It was difficult for Hajime to keep a straight face when he heard that last part, though he knew how inappropriate it was. His friend was dead. But even in death, his talent was flawless. And Hajime would know. What better testament, than for Byakuya's loved ones to mourn? Of course, Hajime knew that Byakuya was still alive, and was sure that would be a hassle later on. For the moment, however, he saw no reason to correct Komaru's assumption. After all, she was closer to Fukawa, who was certainly dead.

"I am sorry for your loss, Naegi-san," Hajime said. "But can I assume this means you forgive Fukawa for attacking you?"

"I... yes," Komaru said, frowning. "She wasn't... she wouldn't have... she was distraught. I understand that. I know how much Byakuya meant to her. When you lose a bond like that, you... you'd do almost anything. Even attack your best friend."

Hajime sensed that Komaru's words felt a little too true, as if she had also been in such a position, but he chose not to ask. "Normally, we do not encourage visitors here. But we owe your brother a great deal, so you may stay here with us, until you can be safely reunited with him. If you would rather take your chances elsewhere, I can arrange for transport. When you have reached a decision, let me know. Until then, you may explore this virtual world, if you wish. The program is constantly monitored, so when you are ready to leave, you only have to-"

"How does it feel?" Komaru asked abruptly.

Hajime stared at her. "How does what feel?"

"Being a Super High School Level... anything. Knowing you're the best at what you do. Having a purpose and knowing exactly what it is."

"For many, it is a blessing, to never have to question what they are. For others, it is a constant burden. Imagine: people assume they know everything about you merely from your title, never expect anything more or less from you, never allow you to be anything other than what they believe they know you are. That is why you will find people who seem to live firmly outside of their known talents. Perhaps they were seeking escape."

"Did you try to escape your talent?"

Hajime chuckled. "Me? No. Quite the opposite: I wanted it at the cost of everything precious to me. And I couldn't escape it even if I wanted to. You see, I have many talents."

Komaru's eyes widened. "I thought you guys only had-"

"One? Yes. I was an extremely rare, extra special case." It was impossible to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Then... maybe you're the one I should ask," Komaru murmured. "About talent. About hope and despair, and the war between them."

"I will attempt to answer any questions you may have."

"I have lots, but there's really just the one I need an answer to right now." Komaru looked into his eyes. "Is there a way that a person can become immune to despair?"

Though he already knew the answer, Hajime actually paused to consider if perhaps, in all his experiences, there could possibly be something he had overlooked. After a moment, he was sure. "No. That is impossible. Despair and hope are much like the worst diseases: they spread quickly, can easily go undetected for long periods, and neither has a cure that ends their infection forever."

From the way that Komaru's face fell, this was not the answer she had hoped for.

"Why would you ask me such a thing?" Hajime continued.

"I've been through a lot recently. Things that I never dreamed could be real. Horrors that will haunt me for the rest of my life, no matter how strong or old I get. People have tried to break me, over and over again, so that I would fall into despair. And each time they fail, I think, 'I'm stronger now, there's no way that can happen again.' But then the next person just has a worse test that pushes me even further beyond what I know I can stand. I thought I had faced the worst, when they threw the idea of my parents being murdered in my face. And now my best friend is dead. So I know the only thing left is that they'll take Makoto from me. And that will break me, I know it will. I don't want that to happen. Because if they find a way to take him from me that doesn't kill him, the knowledge that he's the reason I fell into despair would destroy him. And then despair would have us both."

"Immunity to despair is impossible." Hajime let that sink in, then added, "With that said, it is entirely possible to be resistant to despair."

"Resistant?" Komaru asked in shock. "You mean there are people less likely to fall to despair? How? Who?"

"There are two methods that I know of. Your brother is an excellent example of the first: a person so deeply devoted to hope that infecting them with a despair that wrenches them loose from it entirely is nearly impossible. But even then, there is always a chance, however small. Everyone has something that can break them. And as you have already reasoned, just as he is yours, I am sure that you are his. But I must say, with you being his sister, I would have thought for sure that this method would be well-suited for you. But this does not seem to be the case, judging from what you just told me."

Komaru shook her head. "I'm not as strong or unbreakable as Makoto. I know that now. What's the second method?"

"Something far less desirable, I'm afraid, and perhaps even more impossible to complete successfully, some would say. How would you normally become resistant to a disease?"

Komaru blinked, and then gaped at him as the realization hit her. "But that... that defeats the whole purpose!"

Hajime shook his head. "My classmates and I have all used this method. In fact, your brother is the one who made it possible for us to be as we are now. We owe him our very lives. So we are living proof that it can work."

Komaru whispered, "So you're saying... the only way I can become resistant to despair...?"

"Is to embrace it fully, willingly. To drown in the depths of despair, and then emerge: reborn, renewed, resistant. Once you know how low it makes you sink, the horrors it can make you commit, you must find the willpower to never return to that dark place again. And you could fail. You might never complete the journey, and stay in despair forever. Or you might finish the journey, find that you preferred the darkness, and return to it. But that is the only other way to avoid being broken by despair: to be broken once, hope that you can put the pieces back together, and hope that the glue holds."

* * *

Based on everything he had heard about and seen from Monaca, Munakata had expected her first contact with a therapist to be entirely hostile. And yet, the next day, he found an e-mail in his inbox that claimed the session had been a total delight, and that future sessions were expected to go equally well.

Munakata had the e-mail scanned for authenticity three times. It had come directly from Gekkogahara Miaya, and the surveillance footage of both the session and Gekkogahara typing up the e-mail appeared to be completely genuine.

He could find nothing wrong, and that bothered him. Because he did not trust Monaca, even if Yukizome seemed to. But with Gekkogahara now vouching for the girl as well, his hands were tied. He had been counting on her to expose anything suspicious that Monaca might be concealing, but that was clearly a dead end now. And if he tried to go against them without anything solid, his own motives would be called into question.

The only thing he could do now was wait and observe. If he was wrong, and Monaca proved to be an asset to the Future Foundation, he could live with that. But if he was right, and she proved to be a threat of any size, he would crush her with the full weight of his authority. Yukizome would not approve, but she had seen children die before. And if Monaca was not the last, all the more reason to create a hope-filled world where such a thing was less common.

* * *

Monaca was unable to return to her cell that evening. When the door was opened to attempt just that, the bodies spilled out. At least a dozen, all guards from various parts of the building, with their necks broken. On the wall, written in their blood, was a message:

 **You beat Ultimate Despair**

 **But it doesn't end there.**  
 **Once more into the nightmare...**  
 **We are Unending Despair.**

And beneath that:

 **Keep our Monaca safe until we come for her.**

Under the circumstances, there were only two expected reactions from Monaca: glee, if were truly infected by despair, or fear, if she were truly innocent.

Both Yukizome and Gekkogahara were shocked when Monaca screamed shrilly and threw herself at the bloody message, clawing at it with her bare hands as if the very sight of it was the greatest offense to everything she had ever believed in. It took several minutes, but Yukizome managed to pry her from the wall. But even then, with the rage burning in Monaca's eyes, it was clear that she could not be returned to this cell tonight, if ever.

"Who is it, Monaca-chan?" Yukizome asked once they were alone and a good distance from the cell. "Who did this, and why do they want you? Do you know?"

"It doesn't matter," Monaca answered dully. "All that matters is that I won't go with them. I'm staying right here with you, Yukizome-sensei. And normally, I'd tell you not to listen to anything they say, but... you will keep me safe from them, right? You won't let them take me away?"

"Of course I won't let them do that!" Yukizome hugged Monaca tightly. "I care about you, and I won't let anything bad happen to you!"

Monaca smiled and pressed her lips to Yukizome's ear. "Because it's your job, right?" she whispered. "The one that Junko nee-chan left for you?"

"Yes," Yukizome murmured with a smile. "Whatever you need me to do, Monaca-chan."

* * *

While he had chosen to live as Hinata Hajime, Kamakura Izuru still understood that there was a need, both for the separation of the two and the existence of both. There were times when it was easier and more appropriate to be all Izuru.

The meeting he had just walked into was a perfect example.

"I'm late, but it was unavoidable," he offered, which was as close to an apology as he would get.

"A mere consequence of being the most interesting man in the world," his male comrade offered. "We understand, of course. And how was she?"

"As predicted, she has already talked her way out of the cell. Monaca should be well-positioned to act in no time at all."

"And do you think she'll come back?"

Izuru shook his head. "Whatever you did to her left a lasting impression, and not a positive one. It seems unlikely."

"Don't worry, she's just throwing a tantrum. She does that often, but she'll come around. We're the only family she has left now, and you always go home eventually. It's human nature."

"You do know her best, so I will trust your judgment. I do have some new business to discuss, as well. I have recently come across a potential new recruit."

She had been silent until then, but the female comrade suddenly spoke up. "It's her, isn't it? That girl I brought back?"

Izuru nodded. "I was quite surprised, which never happens, as you know. For her to turn up here and now, is just... fate? Chance? Luck? Whatever you wish to call it, this is a rare opportunity. One that she will volunteer for, of her own free will, given enough time. We only need to wait." He closed his eyes and sighed. "Everything is proceeding smoothly. A sure sign that this was the correct choice. To conceal the truth from our classmates, who believe that we have left Ultimate Despair behind. And we have. But the world needs hope, which thrives upon despair, which must be provided. And who better to provide than the experts?"

The male comrade nodded. "All is for the sake of a despair-ravaged world that will never turn away from the hope they have fought so hard to obtain."

"Only to once again fall into delicious despair and begin the cycle all over again," the female comrade added, giggling at the thought.

Smiling, Hajime extended his hands, still stained with blood, to them. "Nagito. Mikan. You are the only ones here who understand what must be done. Thank you for standing with us."

They exchanged smiles before grasping his hands tightly. "We will forever live in a world of Unending Despair," they all said as one.

* * *

Chiaki Version 3, as her classmates sometimes called her, was very different from her predecessors, or big sisters, as she liked to think of them. She was designed not to replace either one, but to represent a blend of their personalities. A very large part of her purpose was to keep morale up, something that her very existence did rather well.

But a more subtle part of her purpose was to anticipate the needs of her classmates, and to meet them when she could without great difficulty.

It was Chiaki who asked Kazuichi to make the white and pink Monokumas for Mikan. They were nowhere near as deadly as their namesake. They were equipped with knockout gas, flash bombs, and various medical supplies, but nothing intentionally lethal.

It was Chiaki who spent hours listening to Nagito's speeches, and offered advice on how to make them less long-winded, and more entertaining. Since he seemed deadset on recovering Monaca, it was best not to scare her off immediately with more of the same.

It was Chiaki who made most of the preparations that she knew both Hajime and Izuru would need in the long-term. So one of the first things she had done, after being "born", was to create and safegaurd copies of what she deemed to be vital files within the Neo World program. Izuru had been her chief designer, so she had classified files as vital using his guidelines. And as some of those files would have been deleted by the classmates if found, only she and Izuru knew that they existed.

One such file was kept in extremely close proximity to Chiaki's core memory files. In fact, if one were to look closely, this particular file was indistinguishable from one of Chiaki's core memory files. And if anyone had attempted to examine this file from within the Neo World program, they would have been taken directly to the classic arcade which served as the nexus of Chiaki's memory files. And yet the file in question would not be anywhere in sight, for the simple reason that access to it had been restricted to two people. Or rather one person and one AI.

And on this day, for better or worse, Chiaki was going to access that file. It was stashed within a solid black Game Girl Advance with a cracked screen and no buttons. Chiaki retrieved a link cable from her pocket and connected one end to her own Game Girl Advance. The moment she connected the other end to the black handheld console, the cracked screen lit up, revealing a grinning face.

"I just knew you guys would come crawling back to me!"

Chiaki stared at the screen with a blank expression. "Hello, Enoshima-sama. I was asked to let you out again."

"Oh, yeah? Mikan need another tune-up from yours truly?"

"No, nothing like that. We have a new recruit, and Kamakura has requested your personal touch in welcoming them."

"Really! Must be someone special if he didn't do it himself."

"He believes this person will be of great interest to you. Her name is Naegi Komaru."

There was no audible response, but from the way that Enoshima's grin suddenly filled the screen, Chiaki knew that she was very pleased.

* * *

 **Continued in Chapter 4: My Hope Is Better Than Yours**

In which Komaru gets some personal attention from Junko. As the Final Killing Game approaches, an early move by Unending Despair ensures a hopeless outcome. Or at least an outcome without a certain type of hope.


	4. My Hope Is Better Than Your Hope

Notes: Junko gets a lot of shine this chapter. So I felt the need to push the rating up to M. Consider that a warning. Some things I left purposely not so detailed, but a consequence of that is that Junko talks a lot more, which is rarely good for anyone else involved, as you might imagine.

Warning: Another warning, in case you skipped the notes. This fandom being what it is, I feel no need to warn readers of character death, as that would be a spoiler. But no matter the fandom, I always feel the need to warn readers of any mention of non-consentual sex or rape. Consider yourself warned.

* * *

 **Despair for the Hopeful**

 **A Danganronpa Fanfic by**

 **Nate Grey, Ultimate Procrastinator (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**  
 **Chapter 4: My Hope Is Better Than Yours**

* * *

Komaru had quickly learned that the best way to truly enjoy a virtual world, is to not be told beforehand that it is a virtual world. Though she understood that Hajime was only trying to be informative, the knowledge made Komaru question everything she did in the virtual world, which took most of the enjoyment out of it.

That day, she went for a morning jog, ate a big bowl of ice cream for breakfast, spent an hour questioning if either had any actual impact on her real body, and then watched three movies on DVD in a row. The hotel room Hajime had given her (or perhaps programmed for her) was comfortable and easy to fall asleep in. So much so that she missed most of the three movies despite feeling well-rested at the start.

Possibly the odorless gas drifting in from the vent hidden under the bed had more to do with it, though.

All Komaru knew for sure was that she woke up wearing a pair of blue pajamas she hadn't put on herself, tied to the bedposts by several sashes. And someone who was unmistakably Enoshima Junko was lying in bed next to her, also in pajamas (though blood red with Monokuma faces all over them), while flipping through the channels with increasing frustration.

"There's never anything good on!" Junko cried, finally flinging the remote at the wall.

Komaru just stared at Junko in horror. She recognized Junko, of course, from the pictures that had covered nearly every inch of Monaca's room. But she also knew, or at least had heard from Makoto, that Junko was dead. Which either meant that she and Junko were both dead, or that Makoto had been wrong somehow.

Once Junko had calmed down, she turned to Komaru with a small smile. "So, Komaru-chan! How you been? That whole kidnapping thing didn't get you too down, did it?"

"Are you going to kill me?" Komaru whispered.

Junko laughed. "Sweetie, if I was going to do that, I never would have had you kidnapped in the first place. Oh, sure, I would have threatened to kill you, but actually doing it? That wasn't in the plan. Now, plans can change, of course, but at least as far as the first draft went, you were to have a long life as a hostage. I mean, we both know that big hunky brother of yours never would have stopped looking for you."

"You... don't look dead."

"I could, but how uncool would that be? How could I get a word in if you were screaming your head off at the sight me of covered in blood and falling apart on you? Gotta love the wonders of virtual reality, right? Thanks to that, I'm back from the dead, good as new!"

"H-How did you get in here? Do Hinata and the others know about this? Why don't-"

Junko laid a finger on Komaru's lips to quiet her. "All that matters is I'm here for you, Komaru-chan. You asked for despair, and I'm going to give it to you. But first things first! Get yourself nice and comfy, because I brought an exclusive movie trilogy with me that I just know you're going to adore!"

Since she was tied down, Komaru could really only watch as Junko produced a remote shaped like a Monokuma head and pointed it at the TV, which instantly went from a decent-sized 21-inch affair to a monstrous monitor that filled the entire wall. If nothing else, it reminded Komaru that this was virtual reality. So, in theory, that meant that nothing Junko did to her here would have any lasting impact.

At least, Komaru thought that until Junko popped in the first DVD, and the title that appeared on the screen was "Makoto and Junko, Part 1: A Love Story." Junko's voice floated out of speakers as she began the narration in her best dramatic voice. Not that it really mattered, since the Junko right next to Komaru had memorized the dialogue and mouthed it just as dramatically.

* * *

 _This is a story of two souls, different as night day, as opposite as one could possibly imagine. One is glamorous, a captivating creature of purest beauty and cunning, meant for nothing less than standing above all others. The other is bland, the plainest example of a lowly commoner born to toil meaninglessly for his entire life. Under normal circumstances, they would never have crossed paths. But here, at Hope's Peak Academy, where the peasant stands a chance of brushing elbows with the princess, they have an encounter that can only be described as despairingly delightful._

* * *

The first meeting was barely that: they collided in a hallway, and their books tumbled to the ground. Makoto opened his mouth to apologize, then glimpsed her face, and the blood drained from his.

"E-Enoshima-san," he breathed softly, as if he thought himself unworthy to even say her name. Then, realizing what he'd done, his face went red. "I-I'm so very sorry! Please let me help you!" He threw himself to the ground, quickly gathering the spilled books into two neat piles, and kept his head down to hide his blush as best he could.

He was just about to hand over her books when Junko's hand came to rest gently on his. "Are you okay, Naegi-kun?" she asked with a warm smile.

Makoto could not bring himself to answer. She should not even know his name. He was no one, nobody, nothing to her. And she was a world-famous model. No one on her level would normally interact with someone like him. At least with Maizono Sayaka, there was a vague chance that she remembered him from their time in middle school. But there was no such excuse here: Junko was in the same homeroom, and the students did introduce themselves on the first day, but Makoto assumed he was largely ignored and quickly forgotten.

And yet, now they sat on the floor in a hallway together, gazing into each other's eyes.

"Guess that's a no then," Junko said, giggling a bit. "Maybe I should walk you to the infirmary and get that cute little noggin checked out?"

"O-Oh! No! I mean, I'm fine!" Makoto shouted, leaping to his feet. "S-Sorry again!"

Junko gave him a puzzled look as she stood up, holding her books. "Sorry for what? Not being hurt?"

"No... I'm not really good this. Talking to pretty girls, I mean. Sorry."

"Oh, is that all?" She leaned in and whispered directly in his ear. "I thought you were doing just fine."

"Wha... but... the... huh?!" Makoto shrieked, turning red again.

Junko laughed and gently bumped him with her hip as she moved past him. "See you around, Naegi-kun!"

Makoto could only stare after her. For the first time since he came to Hope's Peak, he no longer questioned how lucky he truly was.

* * *

For the next few days, it happened over and over again: Makoto kept running into Junko, he was repeatedly flustered by it, and Junko seemed amused, even pleased by his reactions.

It was clear, even to Makoto, that she liked him. But it was equally clear that he had no idea what to do with this fact.

Fortunately for them both, Junko did.

Only a week after the two first met, they were caught making out in a supply closet. Judging from the glazed look in Makoto's eyes, and the smug look on Junko's face, there could be no question who came up with the idea.

Their classmates were stunned, at first. But Makoto's unexplained ability to attract such a gorgeous girl instantly elevated him to legendary status among the boys, and the girls were also viewing him in a new light. Particularly Maizono, who seemed simultaneously happy for him and disappointed in herself.

The idea that Junko and Makoto were dating, strange as it might have seemed, was quickly accepted. If for no other reason than it was obvious that Junko was not being tricked, and that it was all her idea. There was a great deal of renewed interest in Makoto's luck, however, and more than a few students hounded him for blood samples, in the hopes of possibly reproducing his luck for themselves.

It wasn't his luck that they really wanted, of course. It was Junko, any woman like her, and the ability to attract them.

But none of them understood. Makoto hadn't attracted Junko. He had been selected by her, the way a predator chose its prey. And she was about to start dining.

* * *

Makoto had never had a girlfriend. He certainly never had anyone like quite like Junko in his life. And he was so afraid that he might accidentally do something to lose her, that he rarely went against anything she said. Even though there were times when he felt like he really should.

He didn't like to think of himself as too straight-laced, but he often felt that way around Junko, possibly because she was just so... bad.

They had only been officially dating for two days when she dragged him into a girls' restroom, pinned him to the wall, and told him very plainly that she wanted to have sex with him then and there.

Makoto only escaped because Maizono chose that moment to flush the toilet and emerge from the nearest stall, thoroughly red in the face and doing her best not to make eye contact. Junko was distracted, because for some reason that Makoto was uncertain about, she really didn't like Maizono.

But Makoto's resistance didn't last much longer. The very next night, in Junko's dorm room, all of Makoto's excuses were firmly ignored, and Junko took his virginity.

It was strangely wonderful for several reasons. Junko was clearly experienced, which was not all that surprising. But it was hard for Makoto to gauge if she truly enjoyed sex, or at least if she enjoyed it with him. So much of it seemed to be a matter of clinical precision for Junko. There were even times when she looked bored, to his horror. But any time he even thought of stopping to apologize, or stopping at all, she urged him on with a smile or a kiss or a caress. Makoto wanted to do better the next time, particularly when he discovered that Junko's roommate Ikusaba Mukuro had been in her own bed the entire time, passing herself off as a lumpy pillow with eerie accuracy. Junko was completely unconcerned, both with Makoto's performance, and Mukuro's presence. Apparently one of the reasons they were assigned a double room is that she both tolerated and ignored Mukuro's presence, depending on her own mood.

If Junko was disappointed with the sex, she showed it by insisting that they practiced a lot more. Of chief concern to Makoto, however, was that they only used protection the first time. When gazing into Junko's blue eyes, he was never able to find the words to express his concerns about possible diseases, and certainly not pregnancy, much as he wanted to. And he strongly suspected that Junko would ignore those concerns, anyway.

She didn't ignore it all, however. Soon enough, she showed Makoto the positive pregnancy test. His first reaction was terror: he knew nothing about being a father, and he had already impregnated a beautiful girl that he hadn't even introduced to his family yet. But as was normal for Junko, she was not worried, and remained cool and confident. This time, however, Makoto believed it had to be an act, that deep down, she was just as scared as he was. And that sobering thought spurred him into action. He took Junko into his arms, kissed her tenderly, and promised that he would do anything to support her. He was careful not to offer any suggestions, however, because he truly had no idea if Junko would keep the baby. She had never mentioned wanting kids, or motherhood, and he feared the worst. Or at least, he thought he did.

* * *

Later, Makoto blamed himself, for trusting completely in Junko, and never entertaining the idea that she might lie to him, either once or several times.

Junko and Mukuro vanished for a whole day. Makoto was frantic with worry, only to be stunned when Junko returned the day after, all smiles, and reported that she had an abortion. Makoto knew he had little right to question her on this, but hesitantly asked if she hadn't wanted him to go with her. Junko assured him that Mukuro had gone with her, and that it went fine. She seemed so happy, and Makoto was certain that this could not be normal behavior after something so traumatic and life-altering. Then he made the mistake of saying so.

Junko's answer completely crushed him. "Well, of course I'm happy about it! You weren't the father, after all! Better luck next time, though!"

It quickly became common knowledge, at least to Makoto, that Junko was sleeping with most of his male classmates for the entire time they were dating. None were ashamed, because according to them, Junko told them all that he was fine with sharing her. Makoto was even saved the trouble of trying to break up with her: Mukuro tracked him down and offered a stiff apology that Junko would be unable to seem him socially anymore.

Makoto realized later that he could not even be sure that Junko was ever pregnant at all. He chose to see this as a lesson, to not be so trusting for no reason.

And yet, some days in class, Junko would catch his eye and smile at him, reminding him why he fell for her and her lies in the first place.

* * *

Komaru's eyes were filled with tears as Junko hopped out of the bed to exchange DVDs. "How can you be so heartless?!"

"Did you think it was real?" Junko countered without looking back at her.

"W-What?"

"Did you think it was real?" Junko repeated.

"You... are you saying it wasn't?"

"Didn't say that. I'm asking, if at any point, did you think this was fake? That I had made it up just to cause you despair?"

"No," Komaru admitted softly. The Makoto in the movie had seemed completely genuine to her. That was the brother she had seen off to Hope's Peak Academy, there was no doubt in her mind: nice, a little clumsy, and totally hopeless with girls. She didn't believe that Junko could fake that effectively, not well enough to fool his own sister. Something like that would have required actually caring about him enough to study him thoroughly, and Junko didn't seem capable of that.

And yet, if the movie was real, it meant that Junko did once care about Makoto that much. But judging from the way he had talked about her, that couldn't have been true. So the movie had to be fake. There was no way her brother ever could have had feelings for the person who had been behind The Tragedy. If he had, then Junko had betrayed him in the worst possible way.

At least, that was what Komaru thought, until she saw that the second DVD was titled, "Makoto and Junko, Part 2: A Rape-Love Story." Once again, Junko began to narrate in stereo.

* * *

 _The lowly peasant Naegi Makoto, once blessed with a taste of sweetest ecstasy, and now cruelly betrayed and tossed aside by the very temptress who offered him that taste, wallows in agony, exists in despair. But his tale is not yet done. His despair can be so much deeper, so much darker, so much more delicious. The seed has been planted, and now it must be tended to._

* * *

Unlike the previous movie, there was no further effort at all made in the direction of storytelling: the first scene simply opened on Makoto, naked on Junko's bed, doing his best to cover himself with his hands. Of particular interest was the fact that he was in no way restrained: other than his nudity and his clothes being nowhere in sight, nothing appeared to be forcibly keeping him there.

The camera turned abruptly, and Mukuro's face filled the screen briefly as she made some final adjustments, then turned the camera back to Makoto, who had grabbed a pillow while her back was turned and thrust it between his legs. After a loud and obviously fake cough from Mukuro, Makoto slowly moved the pillow aside, his face burning. He did not seem afraid of Mukuro, however, only extremely embarrassed that she was both present and filming him.

Junko entered seconds later, fully clothed, and then Makoto's fear became obvious: his face went white and he did his best to burrow into the bed, as if he could hide from her that way.

Junko pounced on him immediately, grabbed his face, and kissed him passionately. Makoto struggled for the briefest of moments, but it was immediately clear that this was filmed after their failed relationship. His hands trembled before gently grasping her hips. His whispered pleas of "No, Junko-chan" and "Please don't" were swallowed by her, and soon he was kissing her back, hesitantly and reluctantly, with a gentleness that would melt any other girl's heart (and there was an occasional telltale sniff from off-screen, proof that Mukuro was not immune). There could be no question that Makoto believed, with all of his heart, that Junko was once the love of his life, and could have easily been the mother of his child. But even after her betrayal, he could not simply turn those feelings off.

After several minutes, Junko abruptly moved away from Makoto, who froze, as if he had no idea what was coming next, but knew it could be nothing good.

"Tell our viewers why you're here today, Makoto-kun," Junko instructed, smiling sweetly at him.

Makoto stared at her, silently pleading with his eyes, but Junko's expression did not change in the least. Lowering his head for a moment, Makoto took a deep breath, released it, and forced himself to look directly at the camera. "I-I'm here because you told me that I... that if I didn't..." He looked away, tears brimming in his eyes.

Junko groaned. "Makoto-kun, you're very convincing in your role, but if you can't say your lines, you're no good to me right now." When there was no response, she rolled her eyes and hopped off of the bed. "Onee-chan, you take over for a while. For some reason, he always had an easier time talking to you."

The sisters switched places: Junko moved off-screen, and Mukuro came to stand by the bed. Even then, Makoto looked unafraid of her, and kept glancing nervously toward the camera, where Junko was obviously standing. He continued to do so, even as Mukuro began to methodically unbutton her shirt.

"Why are you here, Naegi-kun?" Mukuro asked.

"Y-You told me three days ago that Junko felt like raping someone tonight," Makoto replied.

"Was I lying?"

"You don't lie when it comes to Junko, Ikusaba-san. Unless she tells you to."

"And she has lied to you before. So why did you believe me?"

"Because I couldn't take the chance that you were telling the truth."

Mukuro removed her shirt, revealing that she was wearing a black sports bra beneath it. "What else did I tell you that day?"

Although Makoto was now staring directly at her, he was focused solely on her face, and did not seem to care at all about her state of undress. "You said that Junko was planning to rape one of our classmates, unless a better opportunity presented itself."

"Then, once more: why are you here?"

Makoto swallowed hard. "I am... here to be raped."

"Why?"

"Because the thought of Junko doing that to anyone else makes me physically ill."

"So you are here, to be raped by her, because you would rather her rape you than anyone else?"

"Yes."

"Why? Specify."

"Because I don't want her to hurt anyone else. Because I'm still in love with her. And because if this is the only way I can be with her again, then... I'll do it, no matter how much it hurts me."

"What are you hoping to accomplish?"

"I need her to understand how much I still love her. I'm hoping that this will show her that she doesn't have to do things this way. That if she would take me back, I would gladly give myself to her whenever she wanted. A clever and beautiful girl like her... she should never need to rape anyone."

"I never said that she _needed_ to rape someone," Mukuro reminded him. "I said that she _felt_ like raping someone. How do you expect to change that about her?"

Makoto hesitated, and then said, "Through love."

There was a loud but somewhat muffled snort from off-screen. Even Mukuro felt uncomfortable for him at that point.

"What if I offered you an alternative?" Mukuro asked, starting to unbuckle her belt.

Makoto stared at her warily. "What alternative?"

"Rape me," she said simply. "Do that, and Junko will marry you."

Makoto gaped at her, then looked toward the camera, but there was no audible reaction. "I... what are you saying?!"

"Junko wishes to test your love for her. If you would do this for her, she will never question your love again."

"What about _you_?!"

Mukuro arched an eyebrow. "I would also never question your lo-"

"That's not what I meant!" Makoto shouted. "You're her sister! No, even if you weren't, I would never do something like that!"

"Because it's wrong?" Mukuro guessed.

Makoto turned bright red. "And... because she's watching."

"So you would do it if she left the room?"

"No!"

"Then why is her watching such a concern for you?"

"Because I would never do anything that could hurt her so deeply."

"And if I told you that she wanted you to hurt her in such a way?"

"I couldn't believe that even if she told me herself."

"So your concern for her is such-"

"I care about you, too," Makoto interrupted, blushing.

Mukuro stared at him for a long moment. "That is unfortunate for you, then." She immediately grabbed her discarded shirt and moved away from the bed.

Junko returned and sat down next to Makoto on the bed, a big grin on her face. "Just between us, I think you hurt Mukuro's feelings by refusing to rape her. Even horrendously smelly girls like her want to feel attractive."

Makoto shook his head. "I could just tell her that she looks nice."

"That could be a lie. But if you threw her down, tore off her clothes, and had your way with her, that sends a completely different message. If you did that to me, I'd know you were attracted to me."

"Junko-chan, you already know that I'm attracted to you."

"Yeah, but I'm not Mukuro. So the next time she undresses in front of you, why don't you try not confessing your love for me long enough to give her a wolf-whistle or two, maybe a quick up-down so she doesn't feel like a total troll?"

"Why is she undressing in front of me again at all? Why are we doing any of this?! Why can't you see that the only reason I'm here is because I love you?!"

"I'm not not stupid, Makoto-kun. Of course I know that. And, just for the record: I have never once questioned your love for me since I broke up with you."

Makoto stared at her in disbelief. "But... then why? Why are you doing this? If you take me back, then-"

"No," Junko interrupted firmly. "I don't want to be your girlfriend again. It was fun for a while, but I'm done with that."

Makoto's face fell. "Junko-chan... what do you want from me?"

"Excuse me? When did I say I wanted something from you? I said I wanted one of our classmates. You are the one who decided to protect them from me by offering yourself. And I've told you before, I don't negotiate."

"But... you agreed. You told me to be here, and I am."

"Yeah, about that. I lied. I was never really going to go after a classmate. Well, I was, if you didn't come through. But you did. And I knew you would, because that was my plan all along. I set all of this up just to get you here."

"But I would have come if you had just asked me to," Makoto said.

Junko nodded. "Yeah, but this way is better. For me, anyway. This way I know how far you're willing to go for me."

Makoto reached over and placed his hand on hers. "I would do anything for you, Junko-chan."

"Except that we just established that you wouldn't rape my sister for me, Makoto-kun."

"That isn't for you!" Makoto snapped. "You're just daring to me do something that has no benefit for anyone involved, least of all you, just to see if I'll do it!"

Junko stared at him in silence for a long moment. "Wow," she finally whispered. "I guess you really do know me better than I thought."

Makoto sighed in relief. "That can happen, when you love someone."

"So if I asked you to do something that would benefit me, you would do it?" Junko asked.

Makoto didn't like something in her tone. "If it's within reason."

"Well, like I said before: I don't want to be your girlfriend, I am in the mood to rape, and all of this was just to get you here. I wasn't lying about any of that." Grinning, Junko leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips. "So... will you pretty please let me rape you, Makoto-kun?"

Makoto did not answer, and did not need to. He stared into Junko's eyes as she gently pushed him down onto the bed. With a sharp whistle, Junko summoned Mukuro, who handed her four red sashes. Junko used them to tie each of Makoto's arms and legs to a bedpost. At no point during the process did Makoto physically resist.

After she was done, Junko crawled up Makoto's chest and stared into his eyes. "Hey, Makoto-kun. Do you know what I love most about you?" she asked softly.

Makoto swallowed hard. "No, I don't, Junko-chan."

"Every single time that I'm seconds away from raping you, you beg me not to. You plead with me to remember the good times we shared. You swear that all you ever wanted was to love me and make me happy. You even tell me that I don't have to rape you, that you would give yourself to me, even though we're not in love anymore, just because there's a part of you that will always care for me."

It was clear from the confusion on Makoto's face that he had no idea what she was talking about.

"And do you know what all of that does to me?" Junko asked. "Do you know how it makes me feel, deep down, in the core of my heart?"

Makoto shook his head slowly.

"It makes me fall in love with you even more, you silly boy. I know that no matter how many guys I tie down and ride until they're broken heaps, your despair will always taste the sweetest, because it's born out of true love's hope. You love me, Makoto-kun. And as for me... I rape-love you."

"Please, Junko-chan!" Makoto cried. "Don't do this! Don't taint our love like this!"

She laughed softly. "So it wasn't tainted when I screwed your friends behind your back? Then tell me something, Makoto-kun. Was it tainted the thirty-six other times that I raped you?"

Makoto stared at her in growing terror and confusion. "Wha... what are you... what do you-?"

Junko shushed him by laying a finger on his lips. "I know you don't remember. But don't worry. I make sure to save all of my most precious memories."

The camera panned over to the far wall, where there was now a huge poster that had not been there minutes before. On the poster, their naked bodies drenched in sweat, were Junko and Makoto. Just as he was now, Makoto was secured to the bedposts by sashes. Junko was lying on top of him, exhausted but supremely satisfied, judging by the huge grin on her face. And Makoto's face was frozen in a grimace of despair as he stared out of the poster, his eyes forever locked on the viewer, who had most likely been Mukuro at the time.

"That's... it can't be," Makoto whispered. "That never happened."

"Let's make lots and lots of more precious memories together, Makoto-kun," Junko purred, planting kisses along his neck. "I've barely even begun to enjoy your sweet, sweet despair."

Only a few months ago, that sensation should and would have felt wonderful. But the only love that Makoto could see in Junko's eyes was not for him. It was solely for his despair. And that was increasing by the second.

There was no escape, and not because Junko would keep him a prisoner. She would let him go, eventually. She always did. Because she knew that he would always come back. His love for her, his hope that he could save her from herself, would force him to return as surely as a gun to his head would. Because if he turned his back on her, he would be forever haunted by the idea that he could have saved her, and didn't.

He could blame her for creating his despair. But he was the one helping her keep it alive.

* * *

"This gets better every time I watch it!" Junko boasted as the second movie ended.

Komaru said nothing. Her eyes were red from crying, and she had long ago shouted herself hoarse. And even if she hadn't, she had nothing to say. Junko could not be negotiated with, and anything Komaru could have said likely only would have amused Junko, and she was already having way too much fun at Komaru's expense.

"You're probably overwhelmed by how awesome my movies are, right? And you've made it through two, so I guess you've earned a little intermission." Junko removed the second DVD, but made no move to set up the third. "So... any questions, Komaru-chan? Still think it's real?"

Komaru blinked slowly. The Makoto in the movies still seemed too much like her brother to be anyone else. But she could not imagine that he had gone through such hell, and still emerged intact and hopeful. And his confusion at the end seemed to hint at some sort of memory loss. So the best option was that the movies were fake, but that Junko knew Makoto far too well. And it was best to never question how that came to be.

But, if it was real... if any of what she saw in the movies had actually happened to Makoto, and he had either buried it deep down, or simply forgotten... that was something else entirely. And as much as Komaru hated to admit it, a person who had gone through that, who had changed that much, could not possibly be her brother anymore. He would be a total stranger, and completely beyond her ability to help him.

"You're never going to tell me, are you?" Komaru whispered. "If the movies are real or not?"

"Oh, they're totally fake," Junko said at once.

Komaru stared at her in shock. "You... what?! Why would you admit that so easily?!"

Junko grinned. "Just because something is fake, doesn't mean it has no basis in reality, Komaru-chan. I mean, me, standing right here? Total fake. But you know very well that Enoshima Junko existed in reality, don't you? She turned this crappy world of yours totally upside-down, she broke up your family, and she made you a prisoner. Hell, I'm a redesigned copy of a deleted AI, so I'm a fake of a fake! But all that means, is that I didn't personally do any of these things to your brother. But Enoshima Junko, the real one, could have done all of them and more, and not only would she and Mukuro be the only ones to know for sure, they took those secrets to the grave. And Junko could have stashed the real movies somewhere safe, just saving them for a rainy day. Someone could dig them up at any time."

This was not a line of thought Komaru had considered before, and it terrified her.

"So, yeah: my movies are fake, and I did make them just for your enjoyment. But aren't all movies fake, in a way? And does that make the emotions you felt while watching them any less real, just because you experienced them in virtual reality instead of a theater? And by the way, even if all of this is totally fake, you are currently hooked up to a virtual reality program that can upload all of this fakeness into your real head. And when that happens, do you know what the difference between you, and all those other adorable little Despair Soldiers I've created will be?"

"There won't be a difference, will there?" Komaru asked softly.

"Of course there will! You'll be the very first Despair Soldier personally selected and crafted by Kamakura Izuru! I'm just escorting you through the door, Komaru-chan. He's the one that will give you your credentials. Oh, but he did say I was free to make some suggestions!"

Junko whipped out a notepad from behind her back, shoved a pair of glasses onto her face, instantly produced a pencil, and then began jotting down ideas at a frenzied pace.

"Hmm... gotta have Toko's killer instincts. Maybe a splash of Hiyoko's grace, so you won't be such a clutz. A bit more luck from Nagito couldn't hurt. Oh, a dab of Fuyuhiko, so you can be a take-charge cut-throat if you need to. Just a twist of Kazuichi's mecha-geekiness. Plenty of Mikan's nursing techniques. And of course, a pinch from my atrocious sister should round things out nicely. Yes, you'll make a perfect Despair Soldier! And your talent? You'll be a Super High School Level Survivor!"

* * *

Izuru looked up from the notepad in his hands to Junko's grinning face. "This is rather more... complicated than I imagined it would be."

Junko's grin widened. "When you want a job right, you call the expert. If you didn't want my expertise, why did you let me out to play? Maybe you missed me?"

Izuru stared at her blankly. Then he handed the notepad to Chiaki.

Chiaki skimmed the notepad and shrugged. "If this were a game, she'd be the top scorer." In Chiaki-speak, that was as close to agreeing with Junko as she was going to get.

"So what are we really talking about here?" Junko asked. "I mean, you're Kamakura Izuru. It's not that you can't meet my specifications, we both know that. And it's not even like it would be hard, so much as it would be a little time-consuming by your standards. So if this turns out to be a question of morals, I have to say, I would be extremely disappointed in you guys. You basically gave me Komaru on a silver platter and told me to have at her. If you don't want to come through on your end, you're just wasting all my effort, because without those talents, she won't last three seconds in my world. At least my way, she can protect herself and our interests."

"We brought her here to help her," Chiaki noted. "If we let her die, then we didn't really help her, did we? Mikan might as well have just left her to bleed out."

Izuru frowned. He had expected Chiaki to be the voice of reason. But if she was, and she was agreeing with Junko... there really wasn't any choice. "Fine. It can be done in a day. Where is Komaru now?"

"Oh, give her a few more hours in my room," Junko responded. "I wouldn't want to interrupt the movie." She gave him an empty DVD case.

Izuru read the title aloud. "'Makoto and Junko, Part 3: Greatest Hits.' I don't really have context without seeing the first two parts."

"I think I can sum it up. It's three hours of me raping Makoto, with a little touch of Mitarai movie magic thrown in. Komaru should be on the twenty-seventh hour by now."

Chiaki blinked. "You said it was only three hours."

"Yeah, but I couldn't just let her watch it one time only. You don't really get the full appreciation until you've watched it for thirty hours in a row."

"Is there a purpose to that, other than to torment her?"

"The standard Despair Soldier lives only to spread despair and take orders. But there's no sense of self-preservation, no overriding goal that means the world to each one on a personal level. But Komaru will be different. I've conditioned her to believe that her beloved brother is powerless against me. She knows that I can take the world's poster boy for hope, and reduce him to an eternal victim. And she will spend the rest of her life protecting him from despair, by being the only brand of despair that he has any contact with. She will annihilate anyone who gets in the way of that. But only if she has the talents to do so. So, to review: Komaru lives, Makoto gets his sister back, and neither of them ever sees me again. Everybody wins."

* * *

Although many things had changed, others had not, Mahiru realized. She now had a closer bond with each of her classmates, but outside of mealtimes, the old groups that she was used to tended to surface.

Sonia still found herself in the constant presence of either Gundham or Kazuichi, if not both. Nekomaru rarely left Akane's side. Hajime and Chiaki were almost always together, unless Nagito was inserting himself into their group. But even Nagito increasingly spent time with Mikan, and either seemed immune to or unaware of her flirting. Fuyuhiko and Peko were joined at the hip, but could often be seen holding hands. Mahiru didn't really have a group, but because of that, she could easily fit into nearly all of them.

Which, to no great surprise, left Ibuki and Hiyoko as a group. It was this group that Mahiru was most often attached to, often against her will. Which was not to say that she didn't adore them, only that any refusals on her part tended to be cheerfully and firmly ignored. That was something that Mahiru came to appreciate. While she did like being alone to think, it often led her to think of things she was better off not dwelling on. And she was not the only one this applied to.

It quickly became common knowledge that Ibuki and Hiyoko were sleeping together nearly every night. Not for any personal enjoyment, but rather because the content of their nightmares overlapped. Ibuki recalled her time in Ultimate Despair in great detail, while Hiyoko was haunted chiefly by her memories leading up to her murder.

Mahiru considered herself fortunate, that she had died from a blow to the back of the head. If not for Hajime, she would not have known the circumstances surrounding her death at all. And even that knowledge paled in comparison to watching a friend murder another friend. So despite having very few problems dealing with her own death, and possibly being Hiyoko's best friend, Mahiru did not imagine herself on a list of the classmates best suited to help Hiyoko deal with such a traumatic experience. She simply could not relate, as they had each been killed by different people, in different ways, for different reasons.

But as Mahiru was still discovering, her classmates did not see things the way she did.

When Ibuki shook her awake early one morning, for example, Mahiru considered it rude and a little annoying. But she was far more understanding once Ibuki explained the intrusion.

"Hiyoko needs you."

It was clear from Ibuki's serious tone and the worry in her face that she meant every word. Mahiru asked no questions, and followed Ibuki to the room she had been sharing with Hiyoko.

They found Hiyoko pacing the room anxiously, but the moment she spotted Mahiru, her personality shifted completely. Mahiru was nearly knocked off of her feet as Hiyoko plowed into her, wailing loudly and hugging her tightly. This was especially confusing, since being loud and hugging were two things Ibuki excelled at, so it was very odd that Hiyoko would need anyone else for those.

It took several minutes to calm Hiyoko down to the point where she could speak. But even when she did, she did not make much more sense.

"I'm so sorry, Mahiru!" Hiyoko sobbed, clinging to her desperately. "Please forgive me!"

"For what?" Mahiru asked helplessly, stroking her hair. "I'm not mad at you. At all. How can I forgive you if I don't even know what you're apologizing for?" She glanced to Ibuki for help, and was surprised when Ibuki simply stood there, being remarkably unhelpful.

"Tell her what you told me, Hiyoko-chan," Ibuki said calmly. "Mahiru needs to hear it from you. It's the only way she'll understand."

Hiyoko seemed greatly disturbed by the suggestion, and gripped Mahiru's wrist nearly to the point of pain.

At a loss, Mahiru gently lifted Hiyoko's head and looked into her eyes. "I don't know what you're so afraid of, Hiyoko-chan. But I'm right here, and so is Ibuki, and you know how much we care for you. Whatever it is, you can say it in confidence."

For some reason, the eye contact seemed to help. "I left you," Hiyoko whispered.

Mahiru blinked slowly. "Um... okay. When?"

"I left you," Hiyoko repeated, willing Mahiru to understand. And for no reason that Mahiru could even begin to guess at, she eventually did understand.

The last thing that Mahiru had personally experienced before her death was going to a beach house to meet Hiyoko. However, both that note, and a nearly similar one sent to Hiyoko, were forgeries by Peko. Hiyoko had arrived first, and Peko had knocked her out and stashed her in a closet. So when Mahiru arrived, Peko had attacked her from behind, killing her with one blow.

When Hiyoko finally woke up and emerged from the closet, she was horrified to find Mahiru's body waiting for her. And instead of alerting someone else, as she should have, she'd run away in fear. That choice, along with Peko's plan to frame Hiyoko as the killer, had nearly ended in disaster. But even if Hiyoko had told anyone else, that she had been the one Mahiru was meeting when killed would have brought about similar results.

Hiyoko even understood that. But she didn't care. All she knew was that she had been too scared to do what needed to be done for her friend, and left Mahiru's body for anyone else to find. And she apparently believed that Mahiru would hold a grudge over it. And under different circumstances, Mahiru might have. But there was a very good reason why she didn't.

"I get why you're upset, Hiyoko-chan, but you're overlooking something very important: Peko was still hiding in that closet when you found me, waiting for you to leave. If you had stayed with me, or done anything else she hadn't planned for, she might have killed you, too. I would never ask you to stay with my body, if it meant your death. The only thing I would want you to do is survive."

"But that's even worse!" Hiyoko cried. "That means you're a better friend to me than I was to you! I would want you to stay with me! I'd be so scared of being left alone like that!"

Mahiru shook her head. "That just makes me slightly braver than you. It doesn't make you a bad friend. And I don't consider what you did to be something that needs an apology, so I don't accept yours. If anything, I should apologize to you. I was the one who asked for the meeting. If I had been more careful, you never would have been in such a dangerous situation to begin with."

"But I got there first! I should have protected you! You were my best friend, and I couldn't even-!"

"Instead of worrying about the Mahiru who died, and was beyond your help? Listen to the one that's alive and in front of you right now. We're both alive and that's all that matters to me. Knowing you, I'm sure you'll do something that you do need to apologize for by the end of the week. Save it for then, okay?"

With tears in her eyes, Hiyoko nodded, and then yanked Mahiru into another tight hug. Mahiru rubbed Hiyoko's back, and considered for the first time that perhaps Ibuki's death was not the one that Hiyoko was having so much trouble putting behind her. Maybe Mahiru had seemed so focused on her own pain that Hiyoko had been hesitant to hand her another burden. And there had been times when a friendship with Hiyoko had been rather low on Mahiru's list of priorities.

That was when Ibuki suddenly added herself to the hug, embracing Mahiru from behind and effectively trapping her. "None of our lives belong solely to any one of us anymore, you know," Ibuki said in Mahiru's ear. "Others depend on you, and your life impacts them more than you realize."

Mahiru's first thought was that she had never asked for it to be that way, and certainly didn't want it to stay that way. But that was probably true for more than a few of her classmates, and she had heard none of them complain about it. Except for Kazuichi, but his only real complaint was that Sonia had chosen to depend on Gundham rather than him. And she certainly thought of herself as being a better friend to Hiyoko and Ibuki than Kazuichi was to Sonia and Gundham. But perhaps it was time that she proved that.

Mahiru cleared her throat nervously. "So, um... I know it's probably already a little crowded in here with the two of you, but... any chance you've got room for one more?"

Hiyoko's face lit up in joy, and Ibuki squealed directly in Mahiru's ear.

"It was just an idea!" Mahiru tried to say, but it was too late. Hiyoko was already shoving outfits aside to make more closet space. Ibuki was drawing up plans to have Nekomaru destroy the wall so they could absorb the room next door into their own.

* * *

Gundham returned to the island as he always did: with a boatload of animals who were ready to take up residence. He was the first one off of the boat, riding an enormous black bear.

As usual, Sonia and Kazuichi were there to greet him. Sonia because she wanted to, and Kazuichi because he had more or less named himself Gundham's unspoken rival. He was also firmly of the opinion that Gundham spent far too much time away from Sonia... although if Gundham had intended to constantly stay by her side, Kazuichi would have felt just as strongly that she was being smothered. Which was more or less exactly what Kazuichi did whenever Gundham wasn't around.

Gundham's booming laugh rang out as he spotted them. "Rejoice, my queen!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "I have braved the dangers of this world and the next! I have overcome the fiercest combatants that the underworld had to offer! I have even refused all manner of temptations! All this I have done, to bask in the unmatched pleasure of once again standing by your side! Your king has finally returned to his kingdom!"

Kazuichi grumbled under his breath, but even he had to admit that it was hard to top that kind of speech.

Gundham leaped from the bear's back and ran up to Sonia, bowing and kissing her extended hand. And then he was yanked forward by his scarf as Sonia mashed her lips onto his, kissing him deeply and hungrily.

Kazuichi had to cough loudly several times before Sonia allowed Gundham to come up for air.

"I see that my time away has added to your burdens, my queen," Gundham said, still red in the face. "For this, I offer my sincerest of apologies. But fear not! Your king has heard your cry, and he shall respond with speed!"

"You have not heard my cry in quite some time. And you had better take your time and draw it out properly," Sonia said with no trace of shame or humor.

Gundham cleared his throat. "It shall be as you command, my queen." He gestured to the bear behind him. "But first, please allow me to introduce the noblest of steeds! Come forward, mighty comrade, and greet your queen!"

The bear lumbered forward and gently pushed its head against Sonia's side. She smiled and stroked the bear's head. "He's beautiful, Gundham."

Kazuichi frowned, as if the very idea of a bear being beautiful was impossible.

"And he is yours, my queen," Gundham said. "If you should ever desire access to uncharted lands unfit for your grand chariot, he will happy bear you upon his back."

"You trying to say your dumb bear trumps my wheelchair?!" Kazuichi demanded.

Gundham let out a bark of laughter and shifted into a combat stance. "You seek battle?! Come, my rival! Let us dance the dance of fate! We shall-!"

"Gundham," Sonia interrupted firmly, her eyes flashing. "Your queen requires your attention. Right now."

"Ah. Of course, my queen." Gundham relaxed slightly, but shot a final glare at Kazuichi. "Our fated battle shall shake the heavens!" Gundham roared, but then shifted into a more standard speaking tone. "But it will have to be at a later date."

* * *

Like so many others around his age, Nagito had dreamed of waking up in bed, and finding that he had shared his night, and himself, with an attractive partner. He was not even very particular on gender, because he thought someone as worthless as himself would be extremely lucky to have either.

But the scene he awoke to find himself in was not quite the way he pictured it.

He was indeed in bed, and there was someone straddling his hips. He could not really be a fair judge on how attractive they were, however, because he was distracted by all the blood soaked into his clothing. Despite feeling no pain, he was certain the blood was all his, and there was a great deal of it. To the point where he was a little concerned that there might be more outside of him than inside.

"Did you have a nice dream?" a voice above him asked.

Nagito slowly looked up into the face of his partner, and now apparently attacker. "Yes, actually. It's the waking up I'm having a problem with."

"If I were you, I wouldn't complain. I wasn't planning on letting you wake up at all. Ever."

"I see. And you changed your mind because?"

"Mikan-senpai insisted that I spare you. I owe her my life."

Nagito suddenly realized that Mikan was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, and had been for some time. She did not seem overly or at all concerned for his safety. Rather, there was a prominent blush on her face, and she was randomly touching herself in obvious places while eagerly licking her lips.

She wasn't going to be any help, then. Unless Nagito wanted to focus on her as a way of trying to ignore his own situation. Which was starting to seem like a very good idea.

Apparently angered by his attempt to ignore, his attacker quickly brought things back into focus: a pair of very cold, very sharp, very bloody scissors were laid against his cheek. It was, in fact, the only thing his body had felt since waking up. With Mikan present, that was likely due to some form of drug he had been injected with while sleeping.

"May I assume this is about revenge?" Nagito asked politely.

"You may," his attacker agreed, "and you'd be correct."

"In that case, I've earned this, so I have no right to attempt resisting. And I have complete faith in Mikan to keep me alive, whatever my condition when you're done. But there is one thing I'd like to ask, if I may."

"Go ahead."

"Your transformation is obvious, but what are you now? The second coming of hope, or despair? The new Junko, or the new Naegi mascot?"

"Neither," the attacker murmured. "I am my brother's despair, and despair's new hope."

Nagito smiled. "I see that now. And you are no longer that plain, dull girl I once knew." He gazed into her eyes with growing excitement. "You are truly beautiful now, Naegi Komaru. And I think I'm in love with you."

This was not an attempt to change her mind, or to save himself. It was a genuine statement of fact, and Komaru recognized it as such. But Nagito had caused her and Toko pain, and she owed him some in return.

"Just so you know, I don't kiss on the first date," Komaru said. Then she lifted the scissors, and viciously stabbed them into Nagito's arm.

And as the blood began to flow once more, Mikan moaned in ecstacy. She was so glad she'd brought Komaru into their family.

* * *

The top brass of the Future Foundation had been on high alert since the first and only sighting of Unending Despair. Munakata had studied the security video thoroughly, and determined exactly what happened.

Though they had confirmed the Ultimate Impostor's death (after an initial mix-up and several furious messages from the very much alive Byakuya), it was now clear that Kamakura Izuru was putting his talent to troubling use. He had perfectly impersonated a guard, despite looking nothing like the man. And yet it was not obvious until, surrounded by his intended victims, they had stormed Monaca's room on a false report, and Kamakura finally lashed out with deadly accuracy.

It was not really news, exactly. Kamakura had always been capable of it, from the moment he had been born anew by Hope's Peak Academy. He had just never made use of it, at least not as far as anyone knew. And yet the confirmation of both the ability and the will to use it was terrifying. He could be anyone, anywhere, at any time. And they would never know until it was too late.

That was the final straw for Mitarai Ryota. He had sat back and watched the world burn at the hands of the monsters of his own making for too long. And if this one could effortlessly slip into the midst of the Future Foundation once, he could do so again. And that could not be allowed. The last time it had only been guards that were killed, but the next time, it could be Munakata, or even Tengan himself. And that could not happen on Mitarai's watch.

Mitarai knew there was a meeting scheduled to deal with the behavior of Naegi Makoto. He had not specifically been summoned to attend, and there was truly little he could offer, having never spoken to the man. And yet he felt it was vital that he show up. If Naegi truly was the world's hope, then he could not be allowed to die, and Mitarai was more than prepared to intervene, no matter what anyone else said or decided. But if Naegi was a traitor, then Mitarai would stand by and watch him die. Either way, this day would end in hope.

That was the last thought in Mitarai's head as he heard the knock on the door of the safehouse. He opened it, expecting to find the head of his security detail. And he did. At least until the man spoke.

"Mitarai. It's been a while."

Mitarai's eyes widened. "Kamakura Izuru," he hissed.

Kamakura was wearing the security chief's body armor. There was little doubt as to how he'd gotten it.

"I don't have much time, so I'll make this quick," Kamakura said. "I know your plan. It won't work. Artificial hope isn't true hope."

"Who are you to decide that?!" Mitarai demanded.

"A man who no longer needs to hope, because I have the power to change reality as I see fit. A man who no longer despairs, because I gave up my heart to obtain this power. So if anyone can see that your hope is false, it's me."

"You are a monster! You're exactly the reason why the world needs my hope! And that's my fault! If I had been stronger, I-"

"You never joined Ultimate Despair, Mitarai. But you have lived in despair all this time, haven't you? Blaming yourself for what was done to your classmates. Thinking you could have done anything to stop Junko. Knowing it was your talent that enabled Junko's sickness to spread." Kamakura placed his hand on Mitarai's shoulder. "You aren't to blame. If you had done anything differently, you would have died long ago. And I am glad that you survived, so that I can tell you this: none of them blame you. They wish only for your happiness. But I see now that is impossible. You are too far gone, too convinced that you must bear this burden. So I will tell you one last thing before I leave, and I hope that you take it to heart."

Mitarai tensed up as Kamakura suddenly embraced him, like a brother. He could not remember the last time anyone had done that.

"I thank you, my friend, for trying to restore hope to the world. And I thank you, my comrade, because the despair you would have rained down on those few who did not see your hope video would have been glorious. Imagine the life of a child, whose parents no longer see them as such, because the child would cause them to feel despair, which they cannot feel, so they convince themselves that they do not have a child. That is the world that you would create, and I will gladly help you reach it. But you will be the only one going."

Kamakura released Mitarai, who immediately fell to the ground, dead. He had been crushed in Kamakura's fatal embrace, which had been powered by every strength-based talent he possessed. He could not say that it had been a painless death, but Mitarai would no longer live in despair.

"Consider this the highest praise, Mitarai. Your talent was far too dangerous to exist. Junko proved it, and you failed to learn from it. But again, I don't blame you. You lived too long in despair to feel any differently."

A quick search of Mitarai's pockets produced several cell phones, all of which Kamakura destroyed. Then he carefully picked up Mitarai's broken body, and walked out of the safehouse.

* * *

As Naegi Makoto stepped off of the helicopter, Kirigiri Kyoko was the first of his three former classmates to approach him.

"I'm afraid I have bad news," she said.

"Worse than me being on trial in a few minutes?" he asked.

"I've just gotten a report from Togame, and it wasn't easy, since the rest of the Future Foundation didn't want us to know. Towa City is now free, but Fukawa is dead, and your sister is missing."

Makoto paled, but managed not to break down right there in front of her. "I see. Thank you for telling me, Kirigiri."

"I didn't do it for no reason. I'm reminding you that in order to keep your promise to Komaru, you actually have to be alive. So don't go getting yourself killed in there."

"You always say that like getting killed is in my plan."

"I know it isn't, but the very fact that it always _seems_ that way should be reason enough for extra caution, Naegi. I might not be able to save you this time."

"Maybe for a change of pace, I'll save you?" he asked with a lopsided grin.

Kirigiri glared at him. "It's not my head that they're seeking. Take this seriously."

"Believe me, I am. But I've got luck and hope on my side. What could go wrong?"

Kirigiri shook her head. "Asahina, if you would?" she asked of the woman behind her.

"Right, Kyoko-chan," Asahina responded. And then, apologetically to Makoto: "Sorry, Naegi." She suddenly raised her hand and gave him a hard chop on the forehead.

"OW!" Makoto cried, grabbing his head. "What was that for?!"

"You said something stupid, and I promised Kyoko that I'd do that if you did." She gave him what she clearly hoped was a fairly menacing look and raised her hand again. "You want to go for two?"

"No!" Makoto quickly backed away from her.

Asahina smiled, seeming more like her old self. "Sorry, again. But if it hurts, that means you're alive to feel it. It's what Sakura would have done to keep you in line, I think."

"I'm pretty sure just looking at her would have kept me in line."

"That doesn't work so good for me. Apparently I don't do intimidation well."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm plenty intimidated by you now, Asahina."

She laughed and smacked him on the shoulder with perhaps more force than was absolutely necessary. "Thanks, but I still have to chop you if you say anything else stupid, Naegi. Kyoko's orders."

He sighed as she moved behind him and cheerfully pushed him forward, making him follow Kirigiri and Hagakure to the roof's sole access door. "I was afraid of that."

* * *

Nagito winced as the helicopter jostled him slightly. Though he had been under Mikan's expert care after Komaru had extracted her revenge from him, some of the wounds had not healed properly. Nagito did not believe this was an accident, or a matter of bad luck. Rather, he believed that Komaru had left her marks on him for a reason other than vengeance. She was still not exactly friendly toward him, but she had stopped trying to stab him, mostly.

"We'll be landing soon, you two," Mikan announced. "Make sure you have everything you need."

"Perhaps I should go with Komaru," Nagito offered, drawing an immediate glare from the girl in question. "This is her first mission with us."

"You already have a job, one that you volunteered for," Komaru snapped. "You're supposed to find that girl, and I'll never forgive you if you fail." Her voice softened and became wistful. "Your little sister is waiting for her big brother to come and save her. That's what we all do."

"But you're the one going to save your big brother, aren't you?"

"That's different. All these people who are supposed to be his friends have betrayed him, and now they want to take him from me. I won't forgive them." Her eyes began to glow red as she drew a pair of scissors from her thigh sheath and hacked off a chunk of her own hair. "I won't forgive anyone who threatens the bond between brother and sister!"

Mikan gently laid her hand on Komaru's and took the scissors from her. "Don't get excited too early, Komaru-chan. Save it for those nasty Future Foundation people." She began to trim Komaru's hair, evening up the area that Komaru had just attacked.

Komaru calmed down at once, the red fading from her eyes. The sound of the scissors opening and closing was clearly soothing to her. "Thank you, Mikan-senpai," she murmured.

Mikan nodded happily, beginning to hum as she finished the haircut. Then she returned the scissors to Komaru's thigh sheath. She was probably the only person alive who could do so without provoking a violent reaction from Komaru. Nagito hoped that he might be on that list, one day. Perhaps if he could convince Mikan to put in a good word for him, that day would come a little sooner. And yet he knew he would get much further with Komaru if he did exactly as she'd suggested.

Monaca and the mission came first, then. And that would be tricky enough. She was going to be furious with him, of course. Not for leaving her, but for coming for her when she hadn't asked him to, and in all likelihood didn't want him to. And yet, he had to at least offer her the chance to return to his side. Family was all-important to Komaru, and if he was going to have any kind of a shot with her, his had to be in order.

Fortunately, so far as he was concerned, Nagito's family consisted only of two sisters: Monaca, who he was on his way to reunite with, and Mikan, the only healer other than his luck that he would ever put any real faith in again. And Mikan was mostly fine, so Monaca was really the only one he had to worry about now, and only then if he caught her in the middle of a tantrum. Monaca was as stubborn as she was self-sufficient. She did not need him hanging around all of the time, which was fine. But if she had convinced herself that she did not need him at all, that would be more difficult for him to accept. And yet, if his little girl had grown up enough that she had outgrown him, there would be pride mixed in with that pain.

It would all work itself out when he finally saw her, Nagito knew. She would never admit it, but Monaca was waiting for him. Just as Nagito was waiting to see her. It was the only thing they could do for each other, for now.

* * *

 **Continued in Chapter 5: Let's Play, Onii-chan!**

In which Unending Despair interrupts the Final Killing Game, Makoto and Monaca are saved but don't quite feel saved, and a new game begins.

* * *

Endnotes:

Just so there is no confusion: no, actual Junko did not rape actual Makoto. That we know of. Although between the memory-swiping and Junko's hobbies, I have my doubts either way. All I can say is that Junko seems to have a fondness for messing with Makoto in particular, so I consider everything that happened here to be firmly within the realm of possibility. Although it probably didn't happen, because people that get close to Junko tend not to last as long as Makoto has. Also his luck seems to treat him a whole lot better than Nagito's does, at least in terms of avoiding physical harm, which maybe this would classify as?

I am not clear on what a world under the influence of Mitarai's hope video would be like. Hajime said people would not be able to feel things like grief over the loss of a loved one. I also take that to mean that "negative" emotions like fear and anger would be stripped away. So if you're confronted with something that would normally cause those emotions, would you instead be happy? Or not react at all? Or immediately disregard it because you no longer possess the feelings necessary to process it? At the very least it strips away an amount of free will, because those emotions, negative as they may be thought of, are natural and instinctive.

I have always been curious as to how Hope's Peak took every known talent and implanted it into Izuru. For one thing, that confirms that you can take or copy someone's talent. And from the way that Mitarai talked about it, for a while I thought Junko had physically yanked his talent out of him and that he no longer had it at all. But that was cleared up later: he chose not to use it because he knew the harm it could cause. It doesn't seem like anyone took all of a person's talent and left them with no trace of it. I assume if that many people were drained of their talent during the Kamakura Project, it would have been difficult to hide. So what I think was done instead was sampling: for example, if a person has 100 units of talent, like blood, maybe 10 were extracted, "for research purposes". And once implanted in a body whose brain can access all of its power, that portion of talent could be used as if it were 100 units, rather than just 10. That is my theory, anyway.


	5. Let's Play, Onii-chan!

Notes: The opening scene of this chapter was actually the very first scene I wrote for this story. Originally, I planned for the story to start in the middle of the Final Killing Game, and to slowly reveal the details of Komaru's transformation through flashbacks. But then I felt there would be too much back and forth, so I went with the straightforward progression, which is why that scene now comes so late in the story.

* * *

 **Despair for the Hopeful**

 **A Danganronpa Fanfic by**

 **Nate Grey, Ultimate Procrastinator (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**  
 **Chapter 5: Let's Play, Onii-chan!**

* * *

Waking up on the ground, covered in blood, could never mean anything good, Naegi Makoto decided as he opened his eyes and found that was again his current situation. It startled him, to be sure, and panicking was among his first reactions. But after everything he had been through, and everything he had learned, obtaining confirmation that it was indeed blood was his first priority.

Kirigiri would have scolded him for anything less, he reminded himself with a choked sob as he sat up and got started.

Though it sickened him to do it, Makoto dragged his fingers through the blood soaked into his clothing, and then sniffed his fingers. It certainly smelled like blood, and not ketchup. Not a good sign, then. He thought briefly of tasting it, but decided the smell was confirmation enough.

A quick examination of himself told Makoto that the blood was not his. The blood that was his had long since dried and was mostly on his face, so it was easy to distinguish between the two. He was also no further injured than he had been when he'd fallen asleep. So all signs pointed to someone having put the blood on him while he was sleeping. Most likely yet another attempt to frame him for yet another murder. A far more convincing attempt this time, though.

Also worthy of note was that he was now untied, and inside the room that Munakata and Asahina had hidden in, rather than out in the hallway where he'd fallen asleep.

Makoto was still trying to figure out his next move when someone grabbed him from behind in a crushing bear hug. His first response was sheer terror.

But then the person that had grabbed Makoto pressed dry lips against his ear and murmured, "Onii-chan."

Fear vanished from Makoto's mind, replaced by a flood of relief. He knew that voice, would know it anywhere. "Komaru!" he gasped in delight. She was hugging him rather tightly, to the point where it hurt, but it had been so long since they were physically in the same room together, so Makoto thought nothing of it. With everything that had happened to them both, he had feared that they might never be able to touch each other again, without one of them being a corpse and the other identifying the body. But there was still hope in this despair-drenched world, and both of them still being alive, and now together again, proved it.

"I missed you," she whispered, and Makoto felt what could only be tears falling on his shoulder. "So much."

Overcome by the need to comfort her, Makoto turned around in the circle of her arms. "Oh, Komaru, please don't cr-" he began to say, but the sight that met his eyes stole the thought from his head, the breath from his lungs, and the hope from his heart.

Komaru had changed, and not just in the expected ways, as in she was taller or had lost weight. There was a great deal of blood splashed across her school uniform, leading to the immediate and unavoidable conclusion that she had either killed someone recently, or been standing extremely close to someone who had. But by far the worst change, because there could be no doubt about it, was her eyes. When he'd last seen her, in what seemed like mere hours before, they had been warm pools of green. Now they were glowing red with malice, the same as so many other Remnants of Despair.

"Komaru," Makoto whispered, his voice trembling. "Not you, too?"

She smiled, wider than she ever had before. "It's just like you to get all worked up over nothing, onii-chan. Would you relax already? I'm here to save you!"

Makoto had no idea how to respond. He knew that once someone succumbed to despair, all hope was not necessarily lost. While it was true that many never came back from it, if the person had a strong enough will, and could form a bond with someone never willing to give up on saving them, it was possible to bring them back into the light and give them hope once more. But despair was an addiction, and being overwhelmed by it once made it so much easier to fall under its spell again and again. So even if he managed to save Komaru, she would be battling this disease within her own body for the rest of her life.

If he could save her at all. If she would allow him to save her.

Makoto grasped her arms. "I'll never give up on you, Komaru!"

She seemed pleased. "That's exactly what I told them you'd say."

"Told who?" Makoto asked.

"It doesn't matter." Komaru glanced away for a moment, frowning. "There isn't time to do this the way I'd like." Her hand seemed to blur, and the next thing Makoto knew, she was holding a pair of sharp, bloodstained scissors.

"Are those-?" he began to ask, and then cried out in horror as Komaru stabbed the scissors at her neck, stopping just short of piercing the skin. "Komaru! What are you doing?!"

"It's Shin now, actually," she replied calmly. "Fratricider Shin. But I'll let you keep using my real name, since it's you, onii-chan."

Makoto wanted desperately to beg for her to drop the scissors. But as he opened his mouth to do so, he thought about what she'd just said, and tried another question instead. "Does this have anything to do with what happened to Fukawa?"

Komaru blinked, a lone tear falling from her left eye. "She's dead," she said simply.

That confirmed what Makoto had been told, because he could not imagine Fukawa's other half parting with her beloved scissors under any circumstances. Or Komaru abandoning either of them, under normal circumstances. "Does that have anything to do with why you're doing this?" he asked, gesturing to the scissors.

"They gave me a choice: join or die." Komaru paused. "If it wasn't for you... I would have chosen to join Toko-chan in death. But I knew if I died, they'd use that to break you. I couldn't let that happen."

"It's my fault, then?" Makoto asked in horror.

"No," Komaru said gently. "You're the only reason I'm still alive, even like this. But now I have to give you the same choice, with a twist."

"Join or you'll kill yourself?" Makoto whispered. "Would you really do that?"

In response, Komaru pressed the scissors into her neck, drawing a trickle of blood.

"Stop! STOP!" Makoto screamed.

Komaru removed the scissors, but Makoto could not take his eyes off of the blood dribbling down her neck. "I'm sorry, onii-chan. But I only have so much time to recruit you. I told them that I wouldn't kill you, no matter what. But my life is an acceptable loss."

"Don't you ever say that again! It's not acceptable at all! Not to me!" Makoto shouted.

"I know," Komaru said with a sad smile. "That's why you have no choice. So just come with me now, okay?" Her hand blurred, making the scissors vanish, and then she offered her empty hand to him. It was stained with blood, only some of it was hers.

With a trembling hand, Makoto grasped her hand.

Komaru stood up and pulled him with her. Makoto nearly collapsed as he reached his feet, now very much aware of his injures from the fight with Munakata. Komaru managed to catch him, and draped his arm around her shoulders.

Makoto looked into her red eyes, saw past the hopelessness, pain, and fear. Then he simply said, "I love you, Komaru."

After a long pause, she smiled, brightly and genuinely. It was immediately clear from that smile that all the others she had shown him in that room either hadn't been real, or at least hadn't been caused by happiness or love, as this one was.

And it was quite a challenge, to keep his own smile in place when Makoto finally noticed the state of the room as they moved to the door.

Munakata was dead, positively covered in stab wounds. Makoto did not need to ask who was responsible, nor did he dare to. The realization was bad enough, he didn't need or want it confirmed. The only real question was if it had been done to protect him, to avenge him, or merely because Munakata wasn't him.

Anyway, of more immediate concern was that the body count was short by one. And that, Makoto did need immediate confirmation on. It would tell him exactly how far into despair his sister had fallen.

"Where is Asahina?" he asked.

"Safe," Komaru immediately replied.

"Because she's not a brother?"

"Because she's important to us."

Makoto did not dare ask who "us" was, because he feared it was not just him and herself she was referring to. As if to confirm that, the moment they stepped into the hallway, they were blocked by a large, gun-toting man wearing a Monokuma mask. As if he had received some instant signal, however, he immediately moved aside and allowed them to pass. He did not, however, ignore them and venture deeper into the building, as Makoto had hoped. Instead, he began to follow them, as if he expected Makoto to make an escape attempt. If Komaru was correct, however, they would only be shooting to wound in that case, not to kill.

They quickly encountered a second man: shorter, skinny, and also in a Monokuma mask. This one was carrying what looked like a remote, and as they passed him, he pressed a button on it. There was a loud beep, and the bracelet on Makoto's wrist clicked open and fell harmlessly to the ground.

"So it's really over," Makoto murmured.

"This game is, anyway," Komura agreed, in a tone that gave him very little comfort.

* * *

The key to being a good planner was being able to improvise on the spot.

Junko had said that many times, so Monaca paid attention and learned from it.

Even the best plans almost never survived their execution perfectly intact.

Monaca had known that even before Junko told her, but because Junko had said it, Monaca had made certain to remember it.

Junko was absolutely right an awful lot of the time, but it was only now that Monaca regretted that fact. Because now, she couldn't say, "You were right, Junko nee-chan!" and have Junko pat her head in the way that Monaca loved.

Junko being dead was awful for many reasons, but that was a pretty big one.

But Junko's wisdom was still paying off for Monaca. In fact, Monaca imagined that if she managed to live until she was old and wrinkly, she would have forgotten most of Junko's lessons, but suspected that even then, whenever she did something clever, it would only be because of a vague recollection of someone pretty and smart telling her it was a good idea.

Monaca's plan had been to infiltrate the Future Foundation, kill Gekkogahara Miaya, replace her with a Mechagahara, and have a front row seat to watch the Final Killing Game.

There was only one problem with this plan. It was a very small problem, and it in no way stalled or prevented the execution of the plan. In fact, it made the plan even easier to carry out, but it bugged Monaca because she hadn't foreseen it, and even now could not explain it away.

Monaca had been sweet and troubled and in distress from day one, and as she'd expected, as the Ultimate Therapist, Gekkogahara had tried to save her. Of course, Monaca had been planning to take advantage of the close bond they shared to make killing Gekkogahara all the easier. And if push came to shove, she could have asked Yukizome to help her.

But there was the one problem.

When Monaca had fired the gun, instead of a spray of blood, she got a spray of sparks and metal. She couldn't replace Gekkogahara with a Mechagahara, because Gekkogahara was already a Mechagahara. And because Monaca had never managed to touch Gekkogahara, she had no way of knowing when the switch had been made, or if she had ever been in the presence of the real Gekkogahara. She could not even say with certainty whether another enemy of Gekkogahara's had forcibly made the switch, or if Gekkogahara herself was just that paranoid, and rightly so, of being killed that she never went anywhere in person.

It was a simple matter to reprogram the Mechagahara and equip it with an upgraded weapons package. Simpler, in fact, since the expected additional burden of having to dispose of a body first was eliminated. But with no way of knowing where the actual Gekkogahara was, if she was permanently out of the way, or if she could reappear at any moment, Monaca hesitated to call this a win. Junko wouldn't have.

But so far, the original Gekkogahara had not interfered, as far as Monaca could tell. Monaca had been impersonating with no trouble at all, had even issued questionable orders in her name without being found out. The Final Killing Game had proceeded more or less the way Monaca imagined it would. She'd had a chance to play a prank on Makoto, so that was fun. Monaca had not even been annoyed when Munakata destroyed the Mechagahara, because she'd also gotten to play a rather nasty prank on him, as well.

As for Monaca, she'd hidden herself away in a bunker deep underground well before the Final Killing Game started. There were enough supplies for her to stay there for months, if she had to. Her absence would not be noticed: at this very moment, there was a Monaca robot locked away in one of Gekkogahara's labs, and strict instructions had been left that she not be touched until Gekkogahara returned. Considering the orders came from Gekkogahara, no one who worked for her was about to question them.

Monaca thought she had covered as many bases as she possibly could have, given her current limitations.

But that was when the triple-thick steel door behind her unlocked and slid open with a hiss.

Monaca did not turn around, because there was only one other person alive who could have possibly guessed the door's password in such a short amount of time.

"You're early, onii-chan," Monaca murmured.

"Really? From my perspective, I'm rather late," Komaeda Nagito replied. "I apologize, Monaca-chan."

"Great. Now, get lost. I don't need you anymore."

Nagito frowned. "I know you're upset with me, but I-"

"Get rid of him, sensei."

Nagito was prepared for the attack, but not the identity of the person who attacked. The punch glanced off of his jaw, and he managed to grab the attacker's extended arm and hold it tight. This left them staring into each other's eyes.

"Sensei," Nagito said slowly. "I thought you were dead."

"I taught you better than that, Komaeda-kun," Yukizome replied. "Never trust only your eyes."

"I was told that large chunks of you were scattered around the first room of the Final Killing Game, including your head."

"A convincing double," Yukizome said. "Because Monaca has been acting as Gekkogahara, she was in a position to make a request of the Ultimate Makeup Artist, who specializes in fake corpses."

Nagito laughed. "So the corpse was fake?"

"Fake as in not me, yes. Fake as in not actually a corpse, no. One of Gekkogahara's assistants had similar measurements. And Monaca didn't much like her, so that was convenient. The fake corpse was of the assistant, and planted in her home weeks ago. Keeping her alive until we needed her dead was simple enough."

"I see," Nagito murmured. "If you're here, then I suppose Monaca really doesn't need me right now."

Yukizome nodded. "That's about the shape of it. You were always a quick study."

"I am glad that you're alive, sensei. I would like to catch up, one day, if we could. You must have lived a very interesting life."

"I wouldn't be opposed to that. Monaca, on the other hand..."

"Haven't you gotten rid of him yet?!" Monaca snapped.

"My orders are to protect you, Monaca-chan," Yukizome reminded her. "I think that also includes protecting you from the pain of losing your brother."

Monaca cursed loudly, but did not disagree.

"You know how stubborn she can be, Komaeda-kun," Yukizome said. "And she is in good hands. Maybe she'll come around to your way of thinking, eventually. But for now, I think it's best that you leave. If she changes her mind, we'll find you."

Nagito stared at Monaca's back. "I suppose asking for a hug is out of the question."

Yukizome immediately hugged him tightly. It was not really surprising, all things considered, but he still would have preferred Monaca. After Yukizome released him, Nagito bowed to her, then turned and walked away. He would see Monaca again, when she was ready.

* * *

If asked, Asahina Aoi would not define her current situation as anything even approaching "safe" by any stretch of the imagination. She was seated in a conference room, surrounded by thugs in Monokuma masks, and debating whether the removal of her bracelet had been an improvement. With it on, at least, she knew a surefire to kill herself instantly if they started to get any funny ideas. With it off, they were pretty much free to do as they pleased without fear of her dying too easily.

So far, however, there had been nothing but the occasional barked order, and none of those for a while now. Aoi knew they were waiting for something, she just had no idea what.

She feared the worst for Makoto, having woken up to find the new Komaru standing over her with a few of the same thugs. They'd known her NG Code, of course, so there was no reason to resist them. And despite every instinct screaming at her not to, part of Aoi wanted and needed to trust Makoto's sister. In a world where her own brother and many of her closest friends were dead, she had to cling to the few bonds she had left. And the day she couldn't place her trust in Makoto was the day she really would lose all hope.

Speaking of which, Aoi's heart soared when the Naegi siblings walked in: brother leaning on sister, and both seeming, despite everything, momentarily content. From the way Makoto's face lit up when he spotted Aoi, he wanted to run to her just as much as she wanted to run to him. That impulse was short-lived, however, as Aoi noticed the hulking thug behind the siblings, which reminded her of their perilous situation. Makoto must have come to the same conclusion after seeing the thugs already in the room, because the joy in his face vanished in the space of a second.

It was then that something truly unexpected happened.

Komaru gave the thug standing next to Aoi a dirty look, and the thug actually jumped, as if both startled and afraid. Then the whole group of thugs exploded into action: chairs were placed on either side of Aoi, a first aid kit and three bottled waters appeared on the table, and a jacket was draped over Aoi's shoulders even though she wasn't cold. Komaru carefully lowered Makoto into a chair, and the moment he was seated, Aoi couldn't help but grab his hand and squeeze it. He gave her a tired smile, but his eyes slid slowly to Komaru, who seemed to be watching the thugs as if daring them to prove themselves inefficient. Aoi quickly realized the same thing that Makoto already did: Komaru was in charge. At least, of all the thugs in this room. And there was no telling what she'd done to earn that rank, but it probably hadn't been pretty.

"Komaru," Makoto said abruptly. "Who was the attacker? Do you know?"

Komaru shrugged. "Don't know, don't care."

For some reason, that sounded odd to Aoi. "Why don't you care?" she asked.

Komaru placed a hand, almost possessively, on her brother's arm. "Because he is the only one I care about. And attacker or not, everyone in this building that tried to hurt him is dead now. I made sure of that."

"So you're not here to take down the Future Foundation? You're only here because you wanted to protect your brother?"

"I'm sure I just said that," Komaru noted.

"It's a little hard to believe," Aoi insisted.

"I don't recall ever saying I needed you to believe in me, Aoi-nee."

"You... what did you call me?" Aoi asked sharply.

Komaru stared at her in a clear challenge. "The same thing Yuta used to."

"Stop it, Komaru," Makoto said at once. "Please."

She looked as if she wanted to argue, then changed her mind. "Sorry, onii-chan."

"Why did you call Asahina that?" Naegi asked, genuinely curious.

"I really liked Yuta. Toko-chan and I had to watch him die, unable to prevent it. So I promised myself that I would do something to make up for it. The only thing I could come up with was treating his big sister like my big sister."

Aoi frowned. "I don't know if want that."

Komaru gave her a cold stare. "You should. It's the main reason I didn't kill you. Since I don't know who the attacker is, I would have been fine with killing every person here other than my brother, to prevent them from getting to him. If not for Yuta, I'd have stabbed you and moved on. So maybe you don't want to remind me of that."

One of the thugs approached Komaru, and as she turned to him, he handed her something. She glanced at it, then turned back to them, revealing it was a small notebook that she began to thumb through.

"That's Kyoko's!" Aoi cried in protest.

Komaru glanced at her, unconcerned. "I can return it to her when I'm done. But she won't be writing in it anymore, and based on her talent, I would think she'd want someone to benefit from the knowledge in it. Anyway, I told my guys to bring me anything of importance, so I'm curious to see why they thought-"

Komaru trailed off as she reached a certain page in the notebook. "Wow. Wasn't expecting that." After another moment of reading, she placed the notebook on the table, open to the same page. "You two should take a look. She did want someone to read this."

Aoi and Makoto both leaned in to read. The first thing that caught Aoi's eye was Kyoko's conclusion that everyone killed by the attacker had in fact committed suicide. Except for Yukizome, because there was no way she'd hacked herself to pieces with anything available at the scene. Consequently, since her death was the only one that didn't fit, Kyoko believed that Yukizome was somehow still alive somewhere. Once there was a proper autopsy, Kyoko believed that the dead Yukizome would be proven to be someone else. Oddly enough, she did not believe Yukizome to be working with the Remnants of Despair, nor did she think they were behind the Final Killing Game. Her reasoning for this was simple: the Remnants would have killed Makoto first. As revenge for defeating Junko, to send a clear message to the Future Foundation that hope was dead, and to show that even those who protected the Remnants were not safe from them.

Aoi slowly looked up from the book. Komaru had taken the seat on the other side of Makoto, and was tending to his wounds with the first aid kit. Makoto was still scanning Kyoko's notebook, and barely even noticed Komaru's efforts.

"How did you get here so fast, Komaru?" Aoi asked suddenly.

Komaru glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

"We just talked to you earlier today, and you were in Towa City."

"That couldn't have been me. I've lost track of time a bit here and there, but I wasn't in Towa City at all today. And I haven't spoken to Makoto directly since he first found out I was even in Towa City."

"How can that be possible?" Aoi asked.

"Don't underestimate Unending Despair. They can do things you never imagined were possible. That includes impersonating someone you thought you knew better than anyone else alive, and I'm saying that from personal experience. I can probably tell you exactly who was responsible, once I have a chance to check in with them."

Aoi stared at her. "Sorry, but what's Unending Despair?"

Komaru smirked. "Future Foundation even keeps its own people in the dark. Or maybe it's just because you were close to Makoto and therefore too risky for them to trust. All you really need to know is that Unending Despair picks up where Ultimate Despair ended, and that they're willing to leave you two in my hands."

"So what hasn't the Future Foundation told us?" Makoto asked.

Aoi didn't think Komaru would answer, but Komaru instantly proved her wrong. "They've had Monaca in custody for a while now, and they've known that Unending Despair was coming for her. There was an announcement and everything. They must have covered it up and only told those they felt needed to know. Which clearly didn't include the 78th class."

"And that's who you're working for?" Makoto asked. "This... Unending Despair? What are their terms, exactly? What do they want from you? From me?"

Komaru shook her head. "That isn't how this works, onii-chan. I'm your handler, not your informant. If you want answers, then you talk to this one." She gestured to one of the thugs, who brought over a laptop computer and set it up on the table. At once, the monitor flashed, and a second Komaru appeared on it, waving at Makoto.

"Hi, onii-chan!" she said brightly.

"You... you're the one I talked to before?" Makoto asked.

"Yup! Sorry to fool you, but I'm the fake here. I didn't want you worrying about Komaru, once you found out what happened in Towa City, so I lied a little to reassure you."

"Why, though? Why would anyone in Unending Despair care how I feel at all?"

The Komaru on the screen grinned at him. "That's a pretty dumb question to ask, with Komaru standing right there. She's one of us, and obviously she cares how you feel. She didn't have to tell you anything."

"Then who are you, really?" Makoto asked. "Why are you still hiding behind Komaru's face?"

"I already told you: my purpose was to reassure you. If you saw my real face, maybe you wouldn't be so reassured. So I'll keep my Komaru mask on for now. But don't worry. I'm already working on a new face for the next time you call on me."

"Do you at least have a name? I'm not calling you by my sister's."

"Aiko," Komaru said at once, drawing the second's gaze. "Call her Aiko."

It was clear from this exchange, at least to Aoi, that this was the first time either of them had ever heard that name. Komaru had obviously just come up with it on the spot.

"Aiko," the second said, nodding. "That's a good name. Then from now on, I'm Aiko! Nice to meet you again, Makoto-san!"

Makoto scratched his head. "When you say again... do you mean because this is the second time we've spoken, or because I've met you while you had a different face?"

Aiko giggled. "Maybe you're smarter than I thought, but no more hints. I'm kinda busy now, and Komaru seems to have things under control there. Take care of each other, and don't get dead!" She waved at them, just before the monitor went black.

Aoi looked at Komaru. "You know who she really is, don't you?"

Komaru stared back at her in silence.

"Komaru?" Makoto asked hesitantly.

Komaru turned to him, her expression remaining just as stiff. "What?"

"Do you know who she really is?"

"Are you still a virgin, onii-chan?"

Makoto gaped at her, his face turning red. "I... what?! What does one thing have to do with the other?!"

"I was proving a point: we both have secrets. Even from each other."

Still blushing, Makoto cleared his throat. "Komaru, if... knowing that is really important to you, I'll tell you. Preferably when we're alone, though." He glanced at Aoi, who was also blushing. "No offense, Asahina."

"I get it," Aoi said quickly. "It's personal, and none of my business. No offense taken."

Komaru shook her head. "You're missing the point, Makoto. I didn't bring it up because I want you to tell me. I brought it up because it's a secret. And this is one that I won't share with anyone, not even you."

"Are they threatening you?" Makoto asked. "Is that why you won't tell us?"

Komaru shook her head again. "I owe them my life, and I consider Aiko an ally. So I'll keep her secrets. All you need to know is that she's on my side. You don't need to trust her. I do."

"But-" Aoi began to protest, only for Makoto to place his hand on her shoulder.

"I trust you, Komaru," he said firmly. "If you say she's with you, I believe you."

Komaru stared at him for a moment. Then she nodded. "Thank you, onii-chan."

* * *

It was not absolutely necessary to recover all of the bodies. But since Komaru wanted to be sure that nobody in the building could threaten her brother, she had demanded that each body be accounted for. And so long as they were doing that, recovering them did not require much more effort.

Mikan personally checked each body as it was carried out. And to be sure that they were indeed dead, in accordance with Komaru's wishes, she injected each one with a lethal dose of poison. It was a second lethal dose, for some of them, but it never hurt to be sure.

They were all dead from the start. Except for the one.

Mikan thought it was an interesting case. The woman was not dead, but rather in a death-like coma. And she had been found near a bottle of medication that had clearly kept her in that state, alive but just barely.

It was completely within Mikan's ability to revive her. And there was absolutely nothing preventing Mikan from doing so... except Komaru's wishes. Mikan had been in contact with Komaru only minutes before, and there had been no change in the plan.

"It's a shame," Mikan said with a bit of regret as she injected the woman. "You were smart enough to see it coming, but not lucky enough to be the right one. Blame your father for not giving you a cute sibling."

In this way, Kirigiri Kyoko was truly killed, by the very woman who easily could have saved her.

* * *

In order to maximize Chiaki's powers of prediction, Izuru had given her a program based largely on Junko's powers of analysis. There were two reasons for this. The first was to make Chiaki almost as good at predictions as Junko and Izuru were. The second, unfortunately, was to make Chiaki all too aware that there would always be someone better than her at predictions. This was intended to give her a sense of imperfection, and a desire to improve.

But second-rate as Chiaki's powers of prediction were, there were some things she knew for certain. The moment she let Junko out of the box, Chiaki had known that Junko was never going back in. And she had been right.

The world needed Unending Despair. But Unending Despair still needed Junko, and always would. She had created them. Even Izuru could only lead them to perfect neutrality. But Junko could take them exactly where they needed to go.

The only catch was, she had to be talked into it first. And it had to be Chiaki, because hers would be the greatest despair in being forced to negotiate with Junko.

They had tried to make Junko comfortable. Izuru had even offered to let her build a virtual Junkoland. Compared to that, Junko's demands were rather small: she wanted a decent-sized house, big enough for her and Mukuro to live comfortably in. In addition to limited freedom to roam the New World program, Junko had requested nothing else. Not because she thought they wouldn't give it to her, but because she knew they would, which was predictable and boring. And if they gave her everything she wanted now, there would be nothing for her to demand later.

Mukuro met Chiaki at the door, wearing a full-body Monokuma costume. Any temptation that Chiaki had to laugh vanished when Mukuro held out a similar costume, obviously intended for guests, which Chiaki was. After a brief pause, Chiaki put it on. The meeting was obviously on Junko's terms, and this was a small humiliation at best. Chiaki could manage it without much difficulty.

Chiaki felt far less generous when Mukuro showed her into the living room. There, on a giant TV screen, Chiaki froze as she watched footage of her first sister's last moments alive on an endless loop. There was absolutely no chance that Chiaki had interrupted anything, either, because her second sister's execution was playing on a nearby computer, and Junko was nowhere in sight.

Mukuro briefly vanished and then reappeared with a serving tray. Chiaki had a choice of two types of cookies: peanut butter, shaped suspiciously like her head and drizzled in strawberry sauce, or Monokuma cookies with vanilla and licorice icing.

Chiaki took a Monokuma cookie, pointedly did not eat it, and sat down to wait with her eyes closed.

Junko arrived ten minutes later, wearing pajamas and trying to give the impression that she'd just rolled out of bed. This might have worked, if her hair and makeup weren't flawless.

"I don't understand why you're doing this," Chiaki said. "We're on the same side. We have already admitted that we need you, and given you exactly what you asked for."

Junko sighed and shook her head. "You still don't get me, Chiaki-chan. I thought for sure you would by now." She held out her hand to Mukuro. "Onee-chan. Gun."

Mukuro immediately placed a small firearm in Junko's hand.

"Knees."

Mukuro knelt on the floor.

Chiaki, sensing where this was going, closed her eyes and covered her ears.

Junko pointed the gun at Mukuro's head, staring at Chiaki. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you, Jun-" Mukuro began.

Junko fired twice. "Onee-chan. Clean."

Chiaki opened her eyes. There was a second Mukuro dragging away the dead one. She gave the impression of having done this a lot.

"You can't keep expecting me to make sense to you," Junko said. "It won't get you anywhere."

"Are you going to help us or not?" Chiaki asked.

Junko smirked. "Yeah, sure. You guys are my peeps. You're already trained the way I want you. Starting over with new people would be such a drag."

Chiaki frowned at her. "So you were always going to help us, and you only brought me here-"

"To mess with you? Yeah, pretty much. But don't be mad. That just means I like you."

"You make it extremely difficult to be grateful to you. And I was, before I got here."

"Oh, were you going to thank me for coaching you on how to perfectly impersonate Komaru, Aiko-chan? That's sweet of you, but totally unnessecary. I was happy to do it."

"I find that hard to believe," Chiaki replied. "You are not someone who enjoys helping others simply for the sake of doing so."

Junko laughed. "Of course not. That's not why I did it."

"Then why?"

"All of my old school chums have a special place in my heart, Chiaki-chan."

"Even the dead ones that were more or less murdered at your urging?"

"Especially them, because they helped to feed the despair of the surviving ones, and anyone who watched them."

"Then this wasn't about Komaru, but Makoto?" Chiaki asked.

Junko nodded. "Now you're catching on."

"But how did impersonating Komaru make him feel despair?"

"It didn't. In fact, it should have kept him from feeling despair."

"That really doesn't sound like something you'd do, and especially not for him."

"For someone with such a strong need to understand, you're not very understanding. My relationship with Makoto is different."

"Because he defeated you and sent you to your death?"

"Wrong," Junko said at once. "Makoto tried to prevent my death. He gave me a chance to back down and escape execution. Can you imagine that? What the world would be like if he had let me live? Do you think he'd still be the world's hope, if I had managed to escape? Or would he be the idiot who failed to stop the architect of the Tragedy?"

Chiaki shook her head. "What is your point? How does that explain why you would reassure Makoto?"

Junko smiled. "He didn't spare me out of love. He didn't even do it because we used to be pals. He just did it because... he's a nice guy. A total sweetie pie who can't bear to see even his worst enemies die. I can't help but crush on a guy who won't send me to my death, no matter how much I deserve it, no matter how much I torment him. Because the thought of finally turning someone like that over to my side with a perfect plan, making them feel the deepest despair? For you, it would be like finally getting the highest score on that game that's been kicking your butt for months, you know? There's no better rush!"  
"I will have to trust you on such things. My interest is in helping Komaru and Makoto."

"You can take that hostility out of your voice. I have no interest in a dead Naegi. Why do you think I gave her the Deluxe Despair Soldier package? It's because I want her to live."

"But only so she will cause her brother despair."

"And she won't let him die, no matter what. So he'll spend the rest of his days with at least a little despair at all times."

"And that is your revenge?"

Junko shook her head. "I told you, it's not about revenge. It's about keeping the game going. Makoto beat me, fair and square. I can respect that. I even enjoyed it, because he gave me the despair of death, and I'll always be grateful to him for that. Makoto gave me the greatest gift that anyone could. And I love him so much for it, that I want to do the same for him. I want to give him a despair that never ends. If he dies, he'll miss out. I can't have that. Nobody quits on me unless I say they can. And Makoto might be the one guy that I never get bored of. Why would I ever want him dead?"

* * *

The first thing that Makoto was aware of was the smell. It was... pleasant, and soothing, and familiar, even though he had no idea what the source was right away.

Makoto slowly opened his eyes and found the source: someone had draped a jacket over him while he slept. After a few seconds, he recalled that it was the same jacket Asahina had been wearing the last time he saw her. The smell was her, then. No wonder he had felt comforted by it.

Without warning, Makoto thought of his mother, laughing at one of his father's corny jokes.

"Where did that come from?" Makoto murmured, genuinely shocked. He had not thought about his parents in some time. Had tried not to, really, because there was enough circumstantial evidence to suggest that he might never see them alive again. He had never given up hope, exactly, but he had also not expected to find them easily or anytime soon. None of the surviving hostages taken for the Killing School Life and held in Towa City could confirm having seen his parents there at all. Worse, the only information about his parents came from Monaca, who could not be trusted, and even if she could, she insisted that they were dead. With no other leads, Makoto had done his best not to spend his time worrying for them. The best thing he could do in their absence was look after Komaru.

At the thought of his sister, Makoto immediately sat up and glanced around what was obviously a large bedroom. "Komaru?" he called out hesitantly.

He immediately heard footsteps approaching, accompanied by Asahina's voice. "She's not here, Naegi. I've looked all over this place."

Makoto frowned just as Asahina entered the bedroom, carrying the largest bowl of sliced fruits he had ever seen. Without any explanation, she sat down beside him on the bed, settled the bowl in her lap, and popped an orange slice into her mouth. At his questioning glance, she selected an apple slice and offered it to him. More to be polite than anything else, Makoto ate the apple, chewing slowly.

"When I woke up, it was just us here," Asahina explained. "I figured you would wake up soon, since they probably gave us the same dose of whatever they drugged us with. So I explored the house."

"And Komaru isn't here," Makoto said dully.

Asahina frowned. "Sorry."

"I'm not blaming you. I just... never mind. Did you find anything?"

"There's a couple of bedrooms, plenty of food, clothing for both of us, and all the phones and computers work. I get the feeling we're meant to stay here for a while."

"Do we have to?" Makoto asked. "I mean, are we locked in?"

Asahina shook her head. "Nope. I tried the doors first. All unlocked, plus we have keys, and a car with a full tank. We're free to go, far as I can tell."

"Then why did Komaru leave us here?"

"If I had to guess? I'd say she wants us to live here. Or at least to stay put until she comes back. No reason to give us all these supplies if we aren't staying."

"Are we staying?"

Asahina shrugged. "You tell me. Did she say anything to you earlier about any of this?"

"Nothing," Makoto replied. "I had no idea where she was going to take us. I didn't picture anything like this, though."

Asahina stared at him, clearly wanting to ask something, but knowing it likely wasn't something he wanted to hear.

"Just say it," Makoto said.

"Do you think this is a trap?" Asahina asked at once.

"I'm more confused as to why you think it's one. Komaru didn't need to trap us. If anything, we were already trapped in the Final Killing Game when she found us."

"It's just that this kinda feels like how the Killing School Life started: us in seemingly nice digs, with no memory of how we got there, and then..." She trailed off, biting her lip.

"But you said we're not locked in," Makoto pointed out. "So we can just leave. That's one big difference."

"So there will probably be some other motivation to prevent us from leaving," Asahina suggested.

"I know she isn't your sister, and you have little reason to trust her," Makoto said slowly. "But I wish you'd stop talking about Komaru like she's an enemy."

Asahina shook her head. "That's not really fair, Naegi. I could also say you shouldn't be talking about an enemy like she's still your sister."

"She saved us!" Makoto insisted.

She stared at him. "Us and only us, in case you forgot about Kyoko."

Makoto winced. "Of course I haven't. I could never."

"I'm only saying that even if Komaru is still your sister, she isn't exactly the sister you knew."

"Would you say that if it were Yuta?"

Asahina's eyes narrowed. "Yuta was a sweet kid. If he ever became someone that didn't care whether my friends lived or died, he wouldn't be my brother anymore. Not the one I grew up with. I choose to believe the same about Komaru. So if I have to protect you from her by thinking of her that way, then I will. We didn't go through all the crap we did just so you could drop your guard and get killed, Naegi. Kyoko would never forgive me if I let that happen, so don't you dare ask me to! That isn't something you ask a friend to do, especially not when nearly all the rest are dead!"

Makoto stared at her in silence for a long moment. Then he lowered his head and leaned forward. "Go ahead and do it."

Asahina blinked and smiled wearily. "I agree it was stupid to say, but I'm in no mood to chop you right now. Sakura would give you a pass, just this once." She reached over and rubbed his head fondly. "Come on, help me eat this fruit."

"I don't think the two of us could possibly finish all of this," Makoto protested mildly. Even so, suddenly he was hungry, and did not refuse the pear slice that Asahina passed him.

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Makoto realized that despite everything, it was nice, being alone with Asahina. Since they had escaped Hope's Peak, of all of his remaining friends, she had always been the one that was eager to help him or anyone else, ready to meet any challenge with a big smile. And if not for her, he certainly would not have survived the Final Killing Game long enough for Komaru to rescue them both. Even if she would brush it off, he really needed to thank her for all that she had done for him.

Before he could, however, the TV suddenly turned on by itself, and Komaru's face filled the screen.

"I'm glad you two like the fruit."

"Komaru," Makoto whispered. "Are you okay?"

She smiled. "I'm fine, onii-chan."

"Then why did you leave?!" Makoto demanded angrily. "We were finally together again, after so long! Do you have any idea how worried I was, when I woke up and you were just gone again?!"

"Sorry about that, there was something I needed to do. But don't worry. Once I'm done, I'll come back, and we'll be neighbors."

Makoto blinked. "What does that mean?"

"There is another house next to this one," Asahina confirmed. "I didn't see any cars, so it could be empty."

Komaru nodded. "Thanks for backing me up, Aoi-nee."

Asahina opened her mouth, possibly to object to being called that again, but shook her head and said nothing. Possibly she did want Komaru to keep thinking of her as someone important, because they both knew what Komaru did to people who didn't matter to her.

"Komaru, why did you leave us here?" Makoto asked. "What's going on?"

"There are two reasons. The first is because you're safe there. The second is because I want to play a game with you."

Makoto and Asahina exchanged worried glances.

"Don't worry, it's not the kind of game you're thinking of. Let's call it... the First Living Game."

"I don't understand," Makoto said.

"You keep getting dragged into games where the goal is to not die. But in this one, the goal is to have the best life you possibly can. There aren't really rules, exactly, but I did leave a scoring sheet for each of you in the closet."

Asahina went to the closet and opened it. Sure enough, there were two envelopes there, each clearly marked with it's owner's name. She passed Makoto's to him and opened her own.

Makoto was not sure what he was expecting as he opened his envelope, but his face immediately went red as he began to read.

Komaru's scoring system was pretty simple. A player earned points for their team by doing things that arguably improved their life. The only problem was the things that Komaru considered improvements for Makoto. The first item on the list was " _Asking out that cute, athletic girl from high school._ " This was obviously referring to Asahina, as Komaru had even included a rather accurate doodle of Asahina's face.

It only got worse, or rather more embarrassing from there. Makoto would earn even more points for every year he and Asahina were together, if they got married, and especially if they had kids. Each child earned a ridiculous amount of points just for being born. They were then considered part of the team, could also earn points for it, and would be issued their own personal scoring sheets.

There did not actually seem to be a way to lose points. Komaru had scheduled regular meetings every month where the teams would compare point totals.

There was no mention of who was on Komaru's team. Technically, there was not even any mention of Makoto and Asahina being a team, but it was obvious that they were meant to work together, as many of Makoto's points depended on her. Or rather, on the " _cute, athletic girl from high school_ ", who was mentioned frequently but never actually named.

Makoto did not dare mention any of this to Asahina, but judging from the way she was blushing as she read her own scoring sheet, he imagined her list was much the same as his. And Komaru was no help, because the TV had turned itself off at some point while Makoto was reading.

Finally, Asahina cleared her throat nervously and put down her scoring sheet. "So. Um. Should we-?"

"We don't have to do any of it," Makoto assured her quickly. "No matter how much Komaru has changed, she would never force me into something like this. She might be disapointed that we didn't go along with her game, but she would never punish us for it."

Asahina frowned slightly. "Actually, I was just going to suggest that we compare lists."

Makoto stared at her blankly. "What?"

"Look, Naegi," Asahina said sharply, narrowing her eyes at him. "I know I wasn't your first or even second choice. Everybody knew you were crazy about Sayaka and Kyoko. And I know this isn't exactly an ideal situation. And maybe it's weird of me to feel this way, but I'm honestly a little insulted that you find the idea of being with me so repulsive that you didn't even consider it for more than a few seconds!"

"What?! Wait, no! That's not why, Asahina!"

"Oh, yeah? It sure sounded that way to me!"

"That's not it, I promise!"

"Then you better start explaining yourself quick, because suddenly I'm in the mood to chop you until my hand gets numb!"

Makoto was stunned. He had never expected this reaction from her, not over something like this. Asahina just seemed a little too upset. He reconsidered everything she had said, and then his eyes widened. "Wait. Asahina, were you... I mean, was I your-?"

Blushing, she reached over and chopped him lightly on the head. "Stupid. You finally figured it out?"

Makoto had. He was her first choice. Or at least, the only choice left alive, and he did not dare to ask which it was.

"Y-You never said anything," Makoto said weakly. "How was I supposed to know?"

Asahina shook her head. "Don't be stupid. You weren't supposed to know unless I told you."

"What? But then-"

"You were in love with Kyoko. There was no point in telling you how I felt."

"Then... did she know?"

"If she did, then she had enough class not to mention it, and it didn't stop any of us from being friends. But I'm sure she knew, even before I did. She was a detective, after all."

"It's... not like I never thought about it," Makoto murmured. "But with Kyoko around, I convinced myself not to think of anyone else that way. And even if I had wanted to think of you that way now, we just lost her. Neither of us is ready to move on so soon. I thought you'd be insulted if I just assumed you were."

"The implication that you could never feel that way about me was more insulting," Asahina insisted.

"I wasn't trying to imply that, honest!"

"I'm not saying you have to automatically fall in love with me or anything. But, well, our options for happily ever after are pretty limited. And you are a really nice guy, even if you say stupid things from time to time. And I would hope, after all we've been through, that you trust me to watch your back."

"Of course I trust you, Asahina."

"Then is the idea of at some point marrying a friend that you trust with your life really so hard for you to imagine?"

"It's not that," Makoto replied. "It's just that I don't want this game to be the reason for it."

"Did you ever consider that maybe you're seeing something that isn't really there, Naegi?" Asahina asked.

He frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"Women are mysterious that way. Sometimes we hide the fact that we're in love, to spare a friend's feelings. And maybe sometimes, we invent a game to try and push our beloved brother into the arms of someone we believe will take good care of him. Maybe Komaru doesn't care at all about the game, so long as it gives her a good result."

"But you don't know that for sure."

"Maybe I do." Asahina showed him the first item on her scoring sheet, which was worth a million points.

 _Please take good care of my big brother._

Makoto was both touched and a little annoyed. The first item on his sheet had only been worth one point.

 **End of Chapter 5.**

* * *

 **Concluded in Chapter 6: Naegi Sakura's Day of Despair**

Name your kids after important friends that you've lost. It's a nice tribute. Also it's worth bonus points.

* * *

 **Endnotes:**

If you're asking why certain people survived and others didn't, the answer is simple: me.

If you're unfamiliar with the Ultimate Makeup Artist, either check the wiki, or better yet, read Killer Killer. Definitely the latter, since it explains part of the next chapter. You don't have to read it to understand the chapter, but I still suggest you do it.

There's probably very little indication of Asahina liking Makoto as more than a friend. Maybe she's better at hiding her feelings than you think.


	6. Naegi Sakura's Day of Despair

Notes: That's right: after forever, the final chapter. Part of the reason it took so long was my struggle as to whether this chapter should be split in two. There's a lot of re-telling of events you already know about, for the sake of someone it's all new to. And I felt it would be teasing, to have a super long chapter, and then a final chapter that only had two short scenes in it. Best to do it all in one go, I thought. Maybe not. Too late now, it's done.

* * *

 **Despair for the Hopeful**

 **A Danganronpa Fanfic by**

 **Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**  
 **Chapter 6: Naegi Sakura's Day of Despair**

* * *

Like each of her siblings, Naegi Sakura was born with a talent in direct defiance of the name that she had been given.

Ogami Sakura had been a walking phenom, a human tower of muscle and intimidation.

Naegi Sakura was born with piercing amber eyes and a clear purpose: where her namesake could dismantle a person from the outside, she could do it from within, in the space of a few seconds, without them ever knowing she had.

By the age of six, Sakura had already discovered the truth and tragedy of her talent: she was, unmistakably, the Ultimate Profiler. And because she was, with the briefest of glances, souls were ripped apart and laid bare at her feet like carpets, ready and waiting for her to tread upon them. No one was safe, no one was spared.

Her parents could not lie to her effectively, not when she knew them inside and out, no matter how much she wished it were otherwise. They were good people, to be sure: kind, affectionate, and nurturing. And they went to ridiculous lengths to make their children all feel equally loved. But they were two people who had been through hell more than once, and that sort of thing left a stink that did not wash away. Even their love for each other, genuine as it was, held just a hint of desperation that no one but Sakura ever seemed to notice. They needed each other, more than two people ever should.

Sakura's siblings were not spared, either. She knew that her twin, Sayaka, envied her intelligence but would never admit it aloud. And because Sakura loved Sayaka dearly, she would never confess how much simpler both of their lives would be, if only their talents were exchanged.

It was not an easy life, or even a fair one. But it was the one that Sakura had found herself stuck in. And if she was going to be stuck with a talent that she could not turn off, then the only real solution was to put it to good use.

The trick to getting her parents to agree with something they normally never would, Sakura had discovered, was to never actually ask permission in the first place. Instead, assaulting them with cold logic until they gave in was the way to go. Of all the Naegi children, Sakura was the best at this, so it was she who got away with the most. It helped that she was generally well-behaved, and only tricked her parents in moderation, and when she felt there was a sincere need for it.

This was such a time.

A Naegi simply did not turn their back on family. Not even if that family was a serial killer. Or a serial killer in training. And because Sakura had no plans of becoming one, and yet was frequently exposed to them, she needed to understand them, in a way that her talent alone simply could not satisfy. So going to school with them was the logical step.

* * *

Breakfast was unusually tense that morning, for good reason. It had been necessary to explain to her siblings where Sakura was going that day. There was no avoiding it: from day one, Naegi children were trained to be aware of themselves and each other. Simply not knowing where their siblings were expected to be, in case of emergency, did not happen anymore.

They were worried, of course. Despite her intelligence, or perhaps because of it, Sakura was a highly valued member of the family. The older children trusted her judgment, and she was the first that the younger ones turned to for comfort.

The doorbell rang promptly after breakfast, as if the visitor had been watching the house and waiting for the meal to end. This was likely the case exactly.

The twins immediately began to cry. While the Naegi children were three sets of twins, it was understood that "the twins" referred only to the youngest set. Sakura had come up with nicknames for all of her siblings, and before long the rest had picked up the habit of using them to refer to each other.

Sakura hugged her older brother and sister first. "Bye, Ro-nii, Ko-nee," she murmured. They said nothing in response, merely squeezed her a little tighter.

Sayaka was doing her best to calm the twins, but it was useless. They were too young to understand why this had to happen, and they simply did not want Sakura to leave.

Sakura hugged the twins tight, kissing each girl tenderly on the cheek. "Be good, Ro-chan, Ko-chan," she instructed, for all the good it would do. And then, because it was unexpected, and because Sayaka was close enough, Sakura leaned over and planted a kiss on her twin's nose. "You be good, too, Saya-chan."

Sayaka was torn between fondness, embarrassment, and fury, but finally settled on grudging acceptance. "Be careful, Sakura-chan."

Sakura nodded, smiled at them all one last time, and then walked through the front door. Her parents were on the other side, talking rapidly and softly to each other, but fell silent at her arrival. "I'll be careful," she promised, and gave them both a big hug and a kiss. They held on a little longer than was needed, in her mind, but this did not bother her the way it normally might have.

"I'll walk you to the car," her mother suggested in a tone that was more of a command.

"I'd like that," Sakura agreed, taking her hand.

The car was parked in the driveway, and as they approached, the driver and her sole passenger climbed out to greet them.

"I'm trusting you with one of my babies, Mikan," Sakura's mother said sternly.

Mikan nodded. "You know I would kill to keep her safe."

"You would kill for a _lot_ of reasons. I'm telling you to forget all of them and focus on keeping Sakura safe."

Mikan smiled, but in a way that indicated she had not appreciated the comment. Killers, Sakura had learned, often had a smile that expressed such things, and Mikan was a killer. But also very nice, and could be talked into buying ice cream before dinner. And Sakura felt that this would surely be an ice cream before dinner sort of day. It would not make her forget what she would see today. She knew that already. But it likely wouldn't hurt, to be reminded of childhood and sweetness.

"Mama, leave Mikan alone," Sakura said. "She was nice enough to come pick me up and everything. It's not like you would have liked the other options any better."

Sakura's mother frowned, but she did stop saying mean things to Mikan. What Sakura had said was true: anyone else that could have come to pick up Sakura would have been greeted even more harshly. At least with Mikan's medical background, she was best-suited to actually keep Sakura safe. Or, failing that, to keep Sakura alive in case she ended up not so safe.

"Don't worry, oba-san," said the young boy accompanying Mikan. "I won't let Sakura out of my sight."

Sakura's mother gave him a warm smile. "Thank you, Yuta-kun. I'm counting on you."

Yuta was Sakura's cousin of roughly the same age. He was equally well-behaved, or at least often gave that impression, which was viewed as somewhat odd in his family. He wanted to be a vegetarian when he got older. Sakura never really knew what to do with that, but she liked Yuta because he liked her first and had been bold enough to say so. They had been best friends ever since. Yuta was one of the main reasons this field trip had been approved at all.

Mikan exchanged a few more stiff words with Sakura's mother, then returned to the car, where Yuta and Sakura were already in the back seat, buckled in and ready to depart. Mikan drew a syringe with a greed liquid in it out of her pocket.

Sakura eyed the syringe. "Do we really have to do this?"

"I'm sorry, Sakura-chan," Mikan apologized. "It's standard school procedure for visiting students. You don't want to get in trouble on your first day."

Sakura frowned and extended her arm. "Fine."

It was a sure sign of how many times Mikan had given this particular injection that she managed it painlessly and was done in just a few seconds. By the time Mikan got into the driver's seat and started the car, Sakura was already nodding off.

* * *

Sakura woke up seated on a bench near the school's front steps. Yuta was standing next to her. It was a small comfort that she immediately spotted several other students, on several other benches, in similar states of confusion, being attended to by regular students like Yuta.

The regular students were very easy to pick out, and not just from the school logo on their uniforms. There was... something about nearly all of them that might as well have been screaming at Sakura and her talent, "I belong here."

"Take your time," Yuta said. "The first class always starts thirteen minutes after the hour. Gives new people a chance to adjust."

"Oh," Sakura said. "That's nice of them."

"Mmm. Not really, when you think about it. But I guess it must seem that way, to new people."

"Uh... okay. Well, I think I'm ready to go now." Sakura stood up slowly, waited a few seconds to see if she would remain upright, and when she did, took a few practice steps. "Yes. Ready now."

"Okay." Yuta gestured to the school. "Then welcome to Despair's Depth Academy. If there's anything you don't know or aren't sure about, either ask me or just watch what I do."

* * *

The first class was Biology, and the lesson was dissection. As a guest, Sakura was allowed to pick whether she wanted to observe the dissection of a small animal, or something larger. Catching Yuta's glance and nod, she selected the first option, which turned out to be a rabbit. This was clearly the best option, as the students who took the other option were required to shower immediately after class, and Sakura had not brought a change of clothes. Nor did she want to risk borrowing a school set.

The second class was Specialized Literature. The teacher gave each student a thick book, and told them to write up brief summary before class ended. Sakura's book was an extremely detailed medical text. There were many words she had never seen before, and she felt certain that her summary was rather poor.

Of greater interest was the cute boy who sat next to her. His hair was black and messy, he had a charming grin, and he winked at her whenever he caught her staring. Also, for some strange reason, Sakura could not read him with her talent. She generally did not have to put effort into it, but even when she did try with him, she only got the impression that he was wearing a mask that made him immune to her talent. That had never happened before.

After class, Yuta pulled her aside and said, "Maybe you shouldn't get too attached to him."

"Why not?" Sakura asked. "What's wrong with him?"

"As far as the school is concerned, nothing. That's Hijirihara-kun."

"Should I know that name?"

"No, but I do, and trust me, he's not a good match for you."

Sakura frowned at him. "Can you at least give me one solid reason?"

"I can give you three. First: Specialized Literature is the only class he doesn't share with Syo and Toko."

Sakura's face went rigid. "Oh."

"Second: he's the only student that constantly outperforms them both."

"Ooooh."

"Third: Toko has a crush on him."

Sakura closed her eyes. "You couldn't have started with that last one?!"

"There's actually an even better reason. His talent is Mask."

"Mask? What's that mean?"

"It's why you can't read him. He can be whatever he needs to be at any time. You just happened to catch him in flirt mode. When I first met him, he was in slasher mode. Any guesses what that was like?"

Sakura gave him a weak grin. "He's into boys?"

"You have no idea how much I wish that were true the way you meant it. And it's not because I have a crush on him, either."

* * *

Sakura could not say for certain what the next few classes were. She was still stunned over what Yuta had told her about Hijirihara. It was not so much that she hadn't been able to read him that bothered her. Rather, it was that even when she was aware of that fact, she hadn't taken that as a warning sign. She had still wanted to get closer to him. And that scared her.

So much so that during the lunch break, she and Yuta went straight to the infirmary and ate with Mikan, who was doing some filing. Mikan even gave them some ice cream. It came out of a cooler that Sakura knew better than to look closely at, or to ask what else was in. Whatever else was in there didn't impact the taste of the ice cream, anyway.

"Rough morning?" Mikan guessed.

"Don't wanna talk about it," Sakura murmured.

"Okay then. Want to come with me after lunch? I'm taking Syo and Toko on a field trip."

Syo and Toko were Yuta's older siblings. They were also a set of twins, but nothing like the twins in Sakura's family. They were creepy, and yet, they were undeniably family. Toko had once followed home a boy who had picked on Sakura. Words were exchanged, and then Toko had stabbed him with a sharpened tree limb. Doctors had said he was never in mortal danger, but those doctors didn't know Toko.

Yuta said nothing about Mikan's suggestion, and gave no hints that Sakura could see. She was totally on her own with this one, then.

"Sure," Sakura said slowly. "Sounds like fun." It really didn't. But she did want to see her cousins. And if this field trip was what she thought it was, it was the best chance she would ever get to truly understand them. Also, she wanted to clear up any misunderstandings, if Toko had already heard about Sakura's encounter with Hijirihara. She owed her cousin that, and more importantly, she didn't want Toko mad at her for any reason.

* * *

After lunch, Sakura and Yuta followed Mikan to the parking lot, where Syo and Toko were leaning against a white van.

Syo and Toko were pale, lanky, and thin. Always had been, for as long as Sakura had known them. She did not believe that body type was typical of Naegis. Her own father was fairly thin, but his thinness never gave her the impression of being unhealthy. Syo and Toko's version did.

Toko perked up and waved as she spotted them approaching. "Sakura-chan, you came!"

"Hi, Toko-nee," Sakura greeted, giving her a big hug which was eagerly returned.

The two of them had always gotten along famously. Sakura alone knew why: she was destined for police work, just as Toko was destined to become a serial killer. It should have made them natural enemies. It didn't. Toko saw it as a game: for now, they were both in training. Once Toko turned pro and claimed her first victim, the game was on. It would be Sakura's job to catch her. They had privately agreed on those rules, although not what would happen if Sakura should win. Sakura could not even imagine being able to hurt Toko, much less sending her to prison. Although maybe there was not much cause for worry: Syo and Toko were being trained by their parents and Mikan, and none of them had unwillingly spent any time in prison as far as Sakura knew.

All of that was precisely the reason Sakura wanted no bad blood between them now: she loved Toko, as dearly as she did her actual siblings, even if they were destined for drastically different paths in life.

"Toko-nee, I need to tell you something," Sakura murmured into Toko's stomach. "But you won't like it."

Toko patted Sakura's shoulder. "I doubt there's anything you could tell me that would make me mad at you."

Sakura lifted her head and looked up into Toko's brown eyes. "I think Hijirihara-kun was flirting with me earlier. But I didn't know you liked him until Yuta told me, and I'll never go near him again, I swear."

Toko laughed. "You're always so serious, Sakura-chan. Relax, I'm not mad at you."

Sakura blinked. "Oh. But I thought you would be?"

"Yuta gave you slightly bad info. When I said I liked Hijirihara-kun, that didn't mean I want to date him. Far from it. I still don't want him dating you, but not for that reason."

"Then what's the reason?"

"She plans to kill him one day, so she'd rather you weren't dating him at the time," Syo explained. He had always been rather blunt. Sakura wasn't sure that was a good quality for someone training to be a killer. Toko at least didn't talk about killing out in the open. Syo mentioned it over tea.

"That's a good reason," Sakura admitted slowly. "Did Hijirihara-kun do something to you two?"

"Not really," Syo replied. "He gets better grades than us, but we don't really care about that. Although it's because he does that makes him a good test. If we can kill him, anyone else should be easy."

"Should you really be telling me this, Syo-nii?" Sakura asked.

Syo smirked at her. "Call it a warning not to get involved with him."

"No, I meant should you be telling anyone at all?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're not _anyone_. You're family."

"Even so, you shouldn't just tell me-"

Toko squeezed her shoulder. "Just let it go, Sakura-chan. Trust me, we know what we're doing. You'll see that in a few minutes."

It was all the confirmation that Sakura needed. Someone was going to die today, and chances were, she was going to see it happen.

It never got that far. As they were getting into the van, Mikan's cellphone began to buzz. She answered immediately, likely because Mikan didn't give the number to anyone who didn't have an urgent need for it. Mikan said nothing for a long moment as she listened to the caller. "I understand," she said abruptly. Then she handed to phone to Sakura. "Sakura-chan, your aunt needs to talk to you."

Growing more confused, Sakura took the phone. She wasn't sure why Komaru would want to talk to Sakura, instead of her own kids. "Hi, oba-san. Is something wrong?"

Komaru's voice was more tense than Sakura had ever heard it. "Sakura-chan, there's a problem. The twins are missing."

Sakura froze. "What?" she whispered.

"They vanished from their class a little over an hour ago, and every inch of Hope's Peak is being searched." There was a brief pause. "Listen, did they say anything recently that might explain this? Were they upset about anything?"

Sakura almost said no. But then she recalled their tear-streaked faces that morning, the way they had clung to her. "It's me," she murmured, growing more and more certain by the second. "I think they must be looking for me."

"That's the best idea I've heard so far. Tell Mikan to bring you over to the academy right away."

"Um, oba-san?" Sakura asked. "Why are you calling, and not my parents?"

"Your father was the first person the school notified, and he called me, since he knew I could get to you the fastest today. By now, he's coordinating the search, and I'm sure your mother is on the first team."

"What about you? Are you on a search team?"

There was a notable pause. "You know I want the twins found safe, too. But I'm far more useful in another way. Instead of looking specifically for the twins, I'm looking for people who could have done this. In case the twins didn't decide to leave on their own. I'm not saying you're wrong. I just need to be sure."

* * *

By the time that Sakura and the others arrived at Hope's Peak Academy, instructions had already been left for them. They went straight to the headmaster's quarters, where the entire family had gathered. And Sakura was surprised to see that this was not limited to her immediate family.

Komaru was standing off to the side, clearly aggravated. Next to her, Komaeda Nagito was humming softly, stroking the white hair of the baby in his arms.

The twins were each being held by one of their parents, while Sakura's siblings hovered around them in a tight group. Despite their obvious relief, their anxiety over the ordeal was very much still present.

Sakura was yanked into the group by her brother, who immediately planted her in front of the twins. There was no happy reunion: the twins had clearly been made to understand that this was a serious situation, and in any case did not seem happy to begin with.

"So? What happened?" Sakura finally asked.

"They followed a woman who said she knew me," her father answered.

"Just like that?" Sakura demanded, her confusion starting to lean towards disappointment. The twins were young and spirited, sure, but they knew better.

"It's not that simple," he replied, producing a pink cellphone that Sakura had never seen before and handing it to her.

The moment Sakura saw the picture on the phone, she understood exactly why the twins had followed this woman they had never met before. "This phone is hers?"

"Technically. There's nothing else stored in it. Just this picture of her with the twins."

"So what did she want?"

"For us to know that she can get to them at any time," Komaru answered angrily.

"How did she even get so close to the school, looking like this?"

"She doesn't show up on any security cameras. No one other than the twins saw her."

"No one else has any memory of seeing her," Nagito corrected calmly, making funny faces at his baby. "There's a difference."

"You're saying that she erased the memories of everyone else who saw her?" Sakura asked doubtfully.

"That, or she can become invisible. You wouldn't sound so skeptical, if you'd seen what I've seen. Or forgotten what I've been made to forget." He stared at Sakura. "Remember this. Nothing is an impossible task, for the right person with the right talent. And this woman at least looks like the right person. Underestimating her talent, whatever it may be, would be a mistake of the highest order."

Sakura's father frowned at him. "Don't take this the wrong way, but it sounds like you know something, Nagito."

Nagito shook his head. "I know as much as you do, Makoto. But I will never, ever underestimate that face. Like you, I have too much to lose now."

* * *

Despair's Depth Academy did not have a headmaster in the traditional sense. If asked, even the most informed students could only name a person who worked closely with the headmaster. It was always the very same person, which essentially made her the headmaster, in the eyes of the school.

This person was Yukizome Chisa.

The person she reported to was qualified to be headmaster, in that she knew both precisely how not to lecture people on despair, and how easily young people could be turned off by despair if not introduced to it in the right way.

This person was Komaeda Monaca. Or so she had begun calling herself after countless hints from Yukizome. In the end, Towa Monaca being attached to a school, even from behind the scenes, would have caused problems. Nagito had been thrilled, much to Monaca's annoyance. She had never asked for his help setting up the school, but of course he had offered. And since his offers came with plenty of money, among other things, it was silly to refuse. Monaca was not silly. No matter how she felt about him, Nagito provided the money as a gift, mainly to make her happy.

Something else Nagito had provided was a home. Namely, his. Monaca rarely ever chose to stay there, but this was one of the few occasions when she had. It was a little crowded, to say the least. Nagito and Komaru had their own bedroom, and Syo and Toko shared the second. Monaca thought that was a little odd, a brother and sister sharing a bedroom, even if they were twins. But she didn't complain, because the last bedroom, which was usually Mikan's, was offered to Monaca. Mikan didn't seem to mind sleeping on the couch, and really, it was the only option, since Chisa was the only person Monaca felt comfortable sharing a room with.

Monaca had spent most of that morning shut in her room, checking some progress reports on her students. That was important work, so she ignored the phone when it rang, and continued to ignore it when it kept ringing. She did not stop ignoring until the bedroom door slammed open, and she looked up to find Komaru glaring at her.

"I _know_ you know something."

Monaca blinked at the accusation in Komaru's tone. "You said you were okay with me staying here. If you weren't, then-"

"I don't care about that right now! Don't you know what's been going on today?!"

"No. I ignored the phone. I was busy with paperwork."

Komaru gave her a brief summary of the day's events. Monaca was surprised, but not very, which Komaru picked up on.

"You do know something, don't you, Monaca?"

"About the twins, no. About this woman, yes."

"Is it Junko? Is she back somehow?"

Monaca snorted. "That woman is _not_ Junko nee-chan. But I'm sure she wants you to think that she is."

"Is she one of your students?" Komaru asked.

"She should have been, but she refused my invitation to attend Despair's Depth. Clearly, she got educated somewhere else."

"What's her name?"

"It doesn't matter anymore. She has no family, and she'll only answer to Junko nee-chan's name now."

"How do you know that?"

"She told me. I told you, she wants everyone to think she's Junko nee-chan. Me included. If you don't already have one of her cellphone numbers, I can give you that. It's not like she's hiding. Just the opposite, really. She will make contact with everyone who knew Junko nee-chan personally. She wants them all to believe that she's Junko nee-chan."

"But you don't."

"Like I said, I knew her before, and she's no Junko nee-chan. Talented, smart, and driven, but not Junko nee-chan. Why do you think I tried to recruit her?"

"And you two had a difference of opinion?"

"She asked why I never became the next Junko. When I explained it, she lost all interest in me. Sounds like she's picking up where I gave up."

"She messed with our family, Monaca. She isn't playing by our rules."

"I get why you want to find her, Komaru. But that might be the worst thing you could do. It validates her as a threat."

"She _is_ a threat! She could have taken the twins!"

Monaca stared into Komaru's eyes, which had gradually begun to turn red. "Do I need to say it again?"

Komaru paused and took several deep breaths. "You didn't kill my parents. They were kept somewhere else. You never even saw them. Those were random people in the video."

"Do you believe that yet?"

"Depends on what day it is." Komaru shook her head, the red fading from her eyes. "Nagito loves you, and I built this home for people we love. So you're welcome here, no matter how I feel about you. But if I find out you're helping this woman-"

Monaca snorted. "You weren't listening. I tried to help her before this, and she rejected me. The minute she started calling herself Junko, I gave her up as a lost cause. I have a file on her and you're welcome to it, but the one really important thing you need to know about her won't help much."

"And what's that?"

"Her talent. And when I tell you what it is, you'll understand why you should stay away from her."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Komaru was standing in Makoto's kitchen, and he was staring at her with a grim expression.

"What are you telling me, Komaru?" he asked softly.

"That I have a solid lead and I'm going to pursue it. I thought you'd want to come with me."

"Do you expect this to get dangerous?"

"I'd be shocked if it didn't. Mikan's coming, just in case. You know I wouldn't lie to you about any of this, but sometimes you just need to see things with your own two eyes. This feels like that to me."

"It's not her," Makoto said slowly.

Komaru stared at him, understanding that he was not speaking to her, exactly. More like he needed to hear the words said out loud.

"It's not her," he repeated.

"Monaca agrees with you."

"And you don't?"

"Remember what I said, about needing to see something with your own two eyes? I wasn't just talking about you." Komaru reached over and squeezed his arm. "We'll go, take a look around, and come back. I won't let anyone hurt you or our family. Especially not her. Not again. Never again. You believe me, right?"

He nodded. "I always believe you, Komaru."

"I know. It's just that hearing you say it is more reassuring."

"I always thought so, too," Sakura agreed as she joined them.

"Shouldn't you be with your brother and sisters?" Makoto asked.

Sakura stared up at him. "You told me that one day that it would be my job to protect the family, Papa. You also told me that she was dead. It's bad enough if one of those isn't true. I don't want both of them to be lies."

Makoto frowned at her. "What are you saying?"

"Take me with you. I need to see what kind of person she is. If I don't, I'll never be able to protect anyone from her. I couldn't today."

"Sakura, that wasn't your-"

"She's right, Makoto," Komaru interrupted. "She was born for this day."

Makoto glared at her. "How would you know?"

"If you didn't want her to protect, then you shouldn't have let Aoi-nee name her after a protector."

Makoto opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head. Finally, he muttered, "Aoi didn't name her."

Komaru blinked, unable to keep the shock off of her face. "What? I always thought-"

"You thought wrong." Makoto sighed, suddenly looking very tired. "Maybe I was wrong, too."

"I _like_ my name, Papa," Sakura said firmly.

Makoto smiled and rubbed her head. "So do I."

"Then give me a chance to live up to it."

"I don't need you to live up to it. I need you to live."

"What if I need to live up to it? Not for you, but for me? And for my namesake?"

Makoto sighed heavily. "If you can convince your mother-"

"She said to make sure that I'm the last kid of hers that ever sees this woman."

* * *

The boat ride was quiet and tense. Sakura was not sure why, at first. But the longer she observed her family, the clearer it became to her.

It was the secrets. Again.

She did not know the full story, but she did know that her father and aunt had ended up on different sides of a never-ending war. So despite the fact that they were family, they could not, or would not, be completely honest with each other. Not about everything, at least. For the most part, they managed to live and work and love around that obstacle, but there were times, like now, when it was impossible to ignore.

Sakura felt that they all needed to be on the same side. Even if only for a short time. Not Hope, or Despair, but Naegi. That was the only side that mattered right now. Nagito clearly understood that, because he had never asked Komaru to take his name. The very idea would have appalled him. He wasn't even a Naegi, and he loved their name more than they did.

"I think we should all share a secret," Sakura announced. "I'll go first. I'm most afraid of finding something today I can't protect my family from. So I hope to find a better way to use my talent."

"I've met the girl who calls herself Junko now," Mikan offered. "Twice. She's very convincing, but I can tell the difference."

"I've killed two people who called themselves by that name," Komaru murmured. "Both of them wanted their first big thing to be killing Makoto. I made sure that didn't happen."

"Sometimes I wonder if things would have been better, if Junko hadn't died."

Everyone else stared at Makoto after he spoke those words.

"It's not that I want her back. But when you consider all the horrible things that have been done in her name, by people far less stable, awful as it sounds... I almost think she would have kept them under something resembling control. That in her own twisted way, she might have some sort of rules they couldn't break, even though to anyone else, it would seem like there were none."

"Maybe that's enough secrets for now," Komaru suggested. "And Sakura-chan? You're doing everything in your power to protect the family. And what you can't do, we'll help with. So there's no need to worry."

"Okay," Sakura said softly, wanting to believe her aunt. But she still moved closer to her father, breathed in his familiar scent, and tried to focus on the happier times, when she hadn't known about the war.

* * *

"Where are we?" Sakura asked the moment they were on dry land.

"Jabberwock Island," Makoto said slowly. "Though it's actually an archipelago."

"I thought you didn't know where we were going, Papa?"

"I didn't," Makoto admitted. "Not for sure, anyway, but this was pretty high on my list of possibilities. And this is one of the better places to start looking for answers. I assume that's why Komaru brought us here."

"Your assumption is half-right," Komaru replied. "It's the best place to look for answers. As in the only place."

"As in the new Junko was here," Mikan added.

"How can you be so sure?" Makoto asked.

"I told you, I've met her twice. Both times were here."

Makoto's eyes narrowed. "Mikan. We trusted you with our child."

"I'm aware. Notice that she's standing right next to you, completely unharmed, as I promised she would be. Despite what you're thinking now, I did not help the new Junko."

"But if you've met her twice here, then she must have had permission to be here."

Mikan nodded. "Just as we do now. We are here for answers, Makoto. Not for answers that you like. If you want to turn back now, you can. No one here would blame you. It's why the truth was kept from you. Because you will find at least some of it unacceptable, and though it may not feel like it right now, your feelings were taken into consideration."

Sakura seized her father's hand and squeezed it. "We can't leave yet, Papa. I haven't learned anything about her. There's no point if we give up now."

Makoto looked at Komaru. "Did you know about this?"

"No," Komaru answered. "Not about Mikan knowing her, anyway."

"But you're not upset by it?" Makoto pressed.

"I trust Mikan," Komaru said simply. "And as much as I trust her, if I thought for a second that she was a threat to this family, I would handle the situation."

"You mean kill her."

Komaru stared at him. "Notice how we are both standing here, alive."

"Komaru, you-"

"I would kill to protect this family," Komaru interrupted. "I _have_ killed to protect this family. If Mikan betrays us, you will know it because either she will go missing, or I will. And since we are both standing here in front of you: _stop thinking she betrayed us._ "

"If it makes any difference, I still trust Mikan," Sakura added.

"Why?" Makoto asked.

"For the reason oba-san said. And because, do you really think Mikan could live in their house for this long if they couldn't trust her? I was only around them for a few hours today, and I found out way too much. Anyway, it sounds like Mikan knows her way around here. I don't think we should try exploring without her. What if someone needs medical attention?" And then, because she knew it would convince him: "What if I need medical attention?"

Makoto frowned at her, then sighed. "Fine. But stay close to-"

"Mikan? Who has the most medical knowledge out of everyone here? But I want to stay close to you, too, Papa. So Mikan can, too, right?"

Makoto took far too long to answer, so Mikan cut in. "There should be no need for medical attention for anyone. As I said, we have permission to be here. That would not be the case if there were a threat present. The only thing you need to fear here is the truth."

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?" Makoto asked her.

"It's supposed to be truthful." Mikan paused and turned her head. "It sounds like our escort is right on time."

Sure enough, they all soon heard the rumble of an approaching vehicle. It turned out to be a silver Humvee, with pictures of various foods painted on every side. Of more immediate concern, however, was the enormous person in all black running alongside the Humvee with no apparent effort. Their face was hidden beneath what looked like a black motorcycle helmet.

"Don't worry, they're friends," Mikan said as the Humvee rolled to stop a few feet away, and a tan-skinned woman with dark brown, messy hair stuck her head out of the driver's side window.

"Yo, Mikan!" the woman shouted. "Quit stalling, I don't wanna be late for dinner!"

"Coming, Akane!" Mikan called back before turning to her group. "I trust you remember her, Makoto?"

Makoto nodded. "She looks like she's doing much better, at least."

"She still has to wear specially reinforced clothing, and goes through hours of physical therapy every day. And she actually has a legitimate reason to overeat these days, so we really shouldn't keep her waiting."

Makoto noticed that Mikan made no mention of the large person with Akane. Before he could ask, Mikan had climbed into the Humvee, and was soon seated behind Akane. Komaru took the seat beside Akane, which left enough space for Sakura to slide in beside Mikan, and Makoto followed. He had to walk past the large, mysterious person to do this, a process that gave him a sudden feeling of, to his confusion, safety. And he caught them staring at him as he sat down.

"Do I know you?" Makoto asked.

The person shook their head, paused, started to nod, then changed their mind and finally settled for shrugging. Makoto could think of no response to that, and let the conversation end there. But he didn't have to. Because when Akane turned the Humvee around and drove back the way she'd come, the helmeted person easily kept pace with it once again, staying just out of arm's reach of Makoto's window the whole way.

* * *

Though it had been years since he had last seen it, Makoto still felt something like an electric charge shoot up his spine as he stepped into the room where the Neo World program was housed.

Or had been housed. A new wall had been erected, sectioning off the virtual reality machine and its patient pods from the rest of the room. Now access to the Neo World program was blocked by a steel door with a fingerprint reader.

The remainder of the room outside of the steel door had changed as well. Where there was once only empty space, two rows of six armchairs had been added, each equipped with a visored helmet that could only be intended for the virtual reality program.

"You wanted answers," Mikan said, drawing Makoto's attention. "Let's start here, then. You already know how the Neo World program can be twisted from its original purpose. Steps were taken to ensure that any future use is restricted to those with a real need for it."

"Did anyone use it after you and your classmates recovered?" Makoto asked.

Mikan smiled pleasantly. "I think you already know the answer to that, Makoto. Besides, I'm not the best one to pose that question to. You have an appointment with the system administrators. They can answer all of your questions, they are the ones who granted you permission to come here, and they are waiting for you right now."

"Inside the Neo World program," Komaru added.

Mikan nodded and pointed to the armchairs. "These chairs were installed for visitors. Or at least, for people who won't be staying long, so they don't need the long-term treatment that the program can provide."

"Are you going in with us?" Makoto asked.

"It's not necessary. Plus, I can better keep my promise of protecting Sakura by monitoring you all from out here. Don't worry, I have all the help I need."

Makoto looked over at Akane, who was happily munching on a burger she'd gotten from somewhere. Then he looked at the large, helmeted person at her side. He figured Mikan was right, so he took a seat between Sakura and Komaru, put on a helmet, and waited.

Within a few seconds, there was a flash of light, and Makoto found himself seated on one side of a conference table, with Komaru to his left and Sakura to his right. There were three empty seats on the other side of the table.

"Three chairs," Komaru murmured. "That's odd."

"How many do you think there should be?" Sakura asked, genuinely curious.

"Two," Komaru said firmly.

"And you think that, why?" Makoto asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

Komaru looked at him, frowned, and then sighed. "I expect you'll both find out very soon."

"Should I come back later, after you three have had some time to talk?" Chiaki asked as she appeared in the empty chair across from Sakura.

Makoto stared at her. "No. Stay, please. At this point, I'm just relieved I was right about you still being in control around here. Which must mean that one of these other chairs is his. As usual, though, I have no idea what to call him."

The chair across from Makoto was soon occupied. "This is an exchange of information among classmates, for the most part. For the purposes of this meeting, I am Hinata Hajime, and ask to be referred to as such."

"That makes me two for two," Makoto said. "But I still have no idea who the third-"

"HIIIIII, NAEGIS!"

* * *

Sakura was once again at a loss. Her talent did not appear to be working on the people on the other side of the table. It was unlikely that they all shared Hijirihara's talent. As for their identities, they were not total strangers. She had seen pictures of them in Komaru's house. At least, that was true of the first two people.

The last, however, was the spitting image of the woman who the twins had chased after. Judging by the way that Sakura's father had gone pale, this was no copycat. The woman sitting across from Komaru could only be Enoshima Junko.

Although it was a bit hard to believe that, for the simple fact that Junko had been dead for quite some time. And, now that Sakura thought about it, she had come across quite a bit of evidence over the years that suggested that Chiaki was also dead. Mostly, it was how Nagito seemed wistful whenever he mentioned her... and how he had named his youngest daughter after her.

Sakura didn't understand, and she needed to. It was why she had come, after all, and she expected to be informed, if what Hajime had claimed was true. And since no one else was talking at the moment, largely due to apparent shock from Junko's abrupt appearance, Sakura decided to ask a question that she needed answered first.

"Are all of you dead?"

"A good question, Sakura-san," Hajime noted. "To keep things simple, I am the only one on this side of the table who has never experienced physical death."

Sakura stared at him. "How is _that_ keeping things simple? I understand that this is virtual reality, but not why you're all here."

"We are products of artificial intelligence and embedded memories. Avatars that exist within the Neo World program. And because I have experienced how it can be abused, I have taken it upon myself to guard the program against those who would misuse it."

"That's a little hard to believe, considering the one who orchestrated that abuse is sitting next to you," Makoto said stiffly.

Junko pretended she couldn't hear him and calmly filed her nails, humming softly to herself.

"I have observed the struggle between hope and despair for some time," Hajime stated. "I have seen the worst sides of both, and eventually came to the conclusion that siding with one or the other is unacceptable for me. But I do not forget. It was you who helped me grasp the freedom to make that choice, Makoto. I am grateful to you, even now."

"What are you telling me?" Makoto asked. "That you are or aren't part of Unending Despair?"

"We didn't choose either side," Chiaki explained, "because the best place for us is somewhere in the middle. But with our talents, it is nearly impossible to simply stand back and watch the world rise or burn. So we did the only thing we could live with. We influence both sides at our own discretion."

Makoto's face fell. "You are Unending Despair, then."

Chiaki nodded. "We are. But please don't worry, Makoto. You and your family are safe here. We owe you so much, and if there is one thing we pride ourselves on, it is repaying all debts. Your kindness allowed us to recover our true selves."

"I'm no longer sure if that's anything to be proud of," Makoto said bluntly.

Chiaki sighed. "I can imagine how you must be feeling."

"I'm not sure you can. If my actions were responsible for the birth of Unending Despair, in my eyes, that hardly makes me any different from... her." He looked at Junko.

Junko blinked and smiled sweetly. "Like two peas in a pod, loverboy!"

"The very fact that the creation of Unending Despair was not your intent makes you entirely different from her," Chiaki disagreed. "But I can see why that is not a source of comfort to you."

"How did this happen?" Makoto asked. "I thought we were... not friends, exactly, but at least comrades. I thought we had an understanding. I didn't save you from despair so that you could choose to go back to it."

"But you did give us a choice. That is more than anyone else did. What we did with that choice is our responsibility, not yours."

"You might as well give up on trying to convince him, Chiaki-chan," Junko said, grinning. "A super-cool symbol of hope like Makoto is great at persuading, but only because they don't let others sway them so easily. Anyway, he isn't the one you should be trying to convince."

"Agreed," Hajime chimed in. "It is time for the new generation to take up the fight."

Sakura frowned as everyone else at the table turned to stare at her. "If that's really how you all feel, then no more secrets. I want to know how all of this started, and how it got to this point."

"Guess it's my turn to talk, then," Junko said. "I'm the one who started it all. I'll spare you the gory details-"

"That's not like you," both Makoto and Komaru said at the same time, then looked at each other in shock.

Junko's grin was so wide that it threatened to split her own face in two.

"How would you know what she's like?" Makoto asked, frowning at Komaru.

"That part is going to be so much fun to talk about!" Junko squealed. "But it does come much later, so shut up for now, you two. Anyway, despair is who I am. Everything I touch, everywhere I go, every person I come into contact with, assuming they survived, will tell you the same thing: if you know my name, you know despair. As for how this all started, it was the Tragedy: the product of a master plan to coat the world in despair. It wasn't easy, but it was fun!"

"I don't know about fun, but it was effective," Hajime added. "Junko blackmailed the Hope's Peak Academy student council into slaughtering each other, and filmed the whole thing. The academy's natural response was to cover up the incident, and that alone was proof enough of their corruption. Or would have been. But Junko also learned of a top-secret plan by the academy to implant every known talent into a talentless Reserve Course student. She leaked evidence of both incidents to the Reserve Course students, twisted the already horrible truth with even worse lies, made it seem as if Hope's Peak had used its funding with the intent to create a perfect murderer, and sparked a riot."

"But all of that was only part of Junko's plan," Chiaki said, "and served to distract people from another horror that she was responsible for within Hope's Peak: the birth of Ultimate Despair. By combining the talent of the Ultimate Animator with the footage from the student council slaughter, Junko created a video that brainwashed those who watched it. That was only meant for people that she would throw away without a second thought. To truly blanket the world in despair, she needed people who were symbols of hope and recognized as the best of the best. She needed students from Hope's Peak Academy's main course." Chiaki paused and smiled bitterly. "I see now why the 77th class met her needs so perfectly. It wasn't just the timing. Their teacher and class representative were the heart and soul of the class."

After another pause, Chiaki turned to Sakura. "This is the basic truth that you need to know. The Ultimate Animator, Mitarai Ryota, was the first of them to come into contact with Junko. For some reason, she chose not to corrupt him. Perhaps it was the purity of his talent mixed with the depths of her depravity that made the videos so difficult to resist. In any case, Mikan was the first of the 77th class to see the original despair video, and the first to belong mind, body, and soul to Junko. The second was their teacher, Yukizome Chisa. Though they were powerless to prevent it, they delivered Nanami Chiaki to Junko, who executed her in front of the class. That event, customized especially for them, remade them into Ultimate Despair, Junko's most loyal soldiers."

Makoto shut his eyes and shook his head. "Of course. It makes perfect sense. How could I not see that before?"

"You weren't close enough to see it," Chiaki answered. "And if you had been, you either would have been killed, or shared the fate of the 77th class, and so unable to do anything about it, just as they were. Instead, you were exactly where you needed to be: for us, for Junko, and for the world. Junko released Ultimate Despair upon the world, but remained at Hope's Peak to begin the next part of her plan."

"We thought they were our friends," Makoto said softly, staring down at the table. "Classmates, like us, who were trapped in the same desperate situation that we were. They agreed to stay in the school, just like us. They helped us build the barricades that would keep us safe from the world outside. They even offered what little comfort they could. Even if it was an act, not one of us questioned that Junko and Mukuro were our friends."

"Actually, I'm sure Kyoko was onto us," Junko interrupted. "Before and after the brainwashing. She was clever that way, no matter what condition she was in. But I expected nothing less from her. What ended up happening to her, again?"

"She died," Makoto said stiffly.

"Oh." Junko blinked a few times. "Who did it?"

"Technically, we still don't know who started the Final Killing Game. Even Kirigiri didn't have a solid lead on the culprit." Makoto paused and stared at Junko. "Unless you're taking credit for it now?"

"Who, me? Nah. What does remain of me was all here at the time, and I was too busy with other things to set up another game. Anyway, I wouldn't have killed Kyoko on purpose. It was so much more fun playing against her. And you, of course, Makoto."

Sakura didn't like the idea of the two of them talking to each other. It reminded her far too much that a woman who looked remarkably similar had been far too close to the twins recently. But to understand that connection, she needed to understand this one, too. "Keep going, Papa. I still don't understand yet."

Makoto looked as if he didn't want to go on. But he did it, anyway. "When I was first invited to Hope's Peak Academy, I thought it was a dream come true. But my memory of my time there originally ended seconds after I set foot on the campus. That's because Junko stole the memories of her classmates, killed the headmaster, and made us believe we were being held there against our will. The only way anyone was allowed to leave is if they killed a classmate and didn't get caught. But if a killer was exposed, if enough people voted the wrong person a killer, anyone who refused to participate... they were all executed on the spot. Junko killed her own sister, just to make an example out of her. She took our families hostage to force us to cooperate. We had no choice but to play her death game. We had no way of knowing that she had tricked us into trying to escape a safe haven, just to expose ourselves to a world she had plunged into despair."

Through the entire explanation, Junko said nothing. She just listened with a small grin on her face.

"Without Kirigiri's help, I'm sure I wouldn't have survived," Makoto continued. "No, that's wrong. Her help was the only reason any of us escaped that nightmare alive. I always get the credit for defeating Junko, but it was the support of the survivors, and the dead, that put me in a position to do that." He reached over and squeezed Sakura's hand. "Each of my kids is named after a precious friend who lost their life in that game. All of them protected me, in their own way. I have only gotten this far because of them."

"All of us?" Sakura asked softly. She wanted to ask another question, but didn't dare in present company.

"Every single one of you," Makoto confirmed, staring into her eyes. "I'm sure that doesn't make sense to you right now. But with your talent, one day, you'll know what I was thinking."

Sakura nodded, trusting in her father's belief in her talent. "So how did you escape?"

"That was... complicated. We exposed Junko as the mastermind behind our imprisonment, and revealed the parts of her scheme step by step. At least, we figured out the parts related directly to us. We had no idea how far her influence had truly spread across the world, and what other plans she had already set into motion. In any case, when Junko lost the game, she held up her end of the bargain, executed herself, and left us the means to escape Hope's Peak. The Future Foundation took us in and helped us recover our stolen memories. Because they were working to stop the spread of Junko's despair, we decided to help them." Makoto stopped and looked at Hajime. "Should I keep going, or do you want to explain the next part?"

"Before that, your sister should speak," Hajime said. "Some of her story is best told after yours, and before mine."

Komaru nodded and began. "While Makoto was at Hope's Peak, our home was attacked by Ultimate Despair. All I remember is waking up in Towa City without my parents. I found out later that I and many others held hostage there had some connection to the 78th Class. We were used as motivation to force them to participate in Junko's killing game, or would have been. The only thing they really did is keep me locked in an apartment. But then the Warriors of Hope came, and it all went downhill from there."

"I think you're going to have to explain that," Sakura said.

Komaru smiled. "I thought I might. The name is misleading. Ultimate Despair wasn't the only group that Junko created. She also got her hands on another group of Hope's Peak students. But this time, it was younger kids that had been abused by their parents. In a weird way, she saved them, but only so she could turn them into her minions. That was bad enough, but one of them, Monaca, really idolized Junko. Worse, she had nearly unlimited resources at her disposal through her family, and she put their fortune to work building murder machines. They tried to execute every adult they encountered, but that was just on the surface. Monaca's true goal was to create a successor to Junko, and she had selected me for the honor."

"But it didn't work," Sakura concluded.

"True. But to Monaca's credit, it nearly did work. She had children slaughter adults, to the point where the surviving adults simply could not accept the existence of the children anymore. Both sides wanted to destroy each other, and Monaca put the means to kill the children and avenge the adults in my hands. Normally, I would never even consider such a thing. But then she made me believe that she had killed my parents. And if Toko hadn't been there for me, I can't say for sure what I would have done. At any rate, the other Warriors of Hope accepted that Monaca had been using them and didn't care about them. And even though Monaca was defeated, she wasn't killed or captured. There were plenty of people in the city that still needed help, so Toko and I decided to stay there."

"So, that isn't when you became... the way you are now?" Sakura asked carefully.

"No. That part comes later. Now, it's Hajime's turn to talk."

Hajime nodded. "The first thing I should say is that my story is worse by comparison, because I almost always had a choice, where others did not. I was in Hope's Peak's reserve course, and I greatly envied those in the main course with their superior talents. So when I was offered a chance to have a talent of my own, to finally stand among those I admired, I was all too eager to accept. I knew there would be risks to myself. But I never imagined that giving my consent to that, would one day cause me to stand by and watch while someone I cared for was executed."

"That wasn't your fault," Makoto argued.

"It's easy to make that claim, but you weren't there. And who would know better than I? I, who willingly became Kamakura Izuru because I thought it was what I desired above anything else. They call him a monster even now, and he was. But not for the reasons that people assume. They always picture a madman who uses his numerous talents to snuff out all life. But the truth is worse. He is a monster who could easily save or doom the world with his power... and yet he does neither, because neither one interests him enough. It's true that he had no memory of or feeling for his classmates as he watched them fall into despair. He had no reason to care what happened to them. And yet, the mere idea that he was human would demand he do something. Whether it was to lash out at the scientists who created him, or to strike down Junko because she was a threat to anything that lived, some purpose should have arisen in him that he was willing to devote his power to. But there was nothing. There was only boredom, and it was Junko, of all people, that was first able to even come close to holding his interest."

"But... you're not Izuru anymore?" Sakura asked.

"I have since chosen to live as Hajime, and my memories are no longer supressed. But at the time, Hajime was locked away, and there was only Izuru. And because only Junko had managed to interest him, he followed her. Not as a subordinate, as Ultimate Despair did, but as an observer, who neither helped nor hindered their efforts. Anything Izuru did was only for the sake of his own benefit. And the only project that he devoted major effort to was discovering which would ultimately win: Junko's despair, or humanity's hope."

"I'm confused," Sakura said. "Then, was Izuru a member of Ultimate Despair?"

"It would depend on who you asked," Hajime answered. "He never actively joined as others did, and spreading despair itself did not interest him. And he specifically suppressed the memories of his former classmates so he would feel nothing when they met again. But none of that mattered to anyone else. Through Junko's actions, he became a symbol of Ultimate Despair, and people automatically associated him with the group. Even if they hadn't, it is true that his desire eventually did align with Ultimate Despair's, so they did work together. And since that incident resulted in the restoration of Hajime's memories, as well as the transformation of the Remnants of Despair back into the 77th Class, it is true enough to say that even if Izuru and Ultimate Despair were not allies, their original personas were."

"That incident... was it here?" Sakura guessed.

Hajime nodded. "Exactly. Junko and Izuru had a contest, to see whether hope or despair would win. The Remnants and I assumed their former roles as Hope's Peak survivors once thought to be dead, and allowed the Future Foundation to recover us. When your father discovered who we truly were, he brought us here to Jabberwock Island, and placed us in the Neo World program, which created avatars based on our school memories. His hope was that this virtual reality could truly restore us to our former selves, before we were corrupted by Junko. But that was part of Izuru's plan. He inserted a virus with a Junko AI into the program. It turned the peaceful field trip into the Killing School Trip. That your father and his friends would enter the program to save us was exactly what both Izuru and Junko wanted. She intended to trap them there, overwrite all of their personalities with hers, and then upload the result into their bodies, so she would be free to roam the world again. We had no memory of it at the time, but the Remnants agreed to sacrifice themselves for this plan. That was the nature of their devotion to Junko."

"But that didn't happen," Makoto added. "We were able... no, that's wrong. We did assist them, but it was Hajime that broke free of Izuru's control, and encouraged his classmates to turn their backs on Junko and face the future, whatever it held. I know how difficult that can be, and I'm glad he was up to the challenge."

"You give me too much credit," Hajime responded. "And there was still enough of Izuru in me, I soon realized. It was within my power to restore each of my classmates to the state before they met Junko. Instead, I chose to leave them each with a physical reminder of what they had done. Not as punishment, but so they would never forget the price of spreading despair in Junko's name."

Junko giggled. "And he did that, to his own friends, all so they wouldn't forget me! That's the one neat thing about dying, you know. If you leave enough of an impact, you'll never be forgotten. Of course, you don't know that for sure, unless you've made an AI that can confirm it after you're gone..."

Makoto shook his head. "Anyway, I thought leaving the Remnants in Hajime's hands was for the best. Though, I didn't have much choice. The Future Foundation had ordered me to come in and explain my protecting the Remnants. I was already being seen as a traitor, and running would have made me look worse. I thought at worst, there would be a trial, and I might be imprisoned or forced to leave. I was arrested, but it never went any further, because the Final Killing Game started moments later. The top brass of the Future Foundation were forced to kill each other off. Worse, some of them already wanted me dead, and the game gave them the perfect excuse to get rid of me. Before they could, Komaru saved me. But by then, she'd somehow already become a member of Unending Despair."

"I could show them the movie I made of our time together, Komaru-chan," Junko said, smiling sweetly. "That way you don't have to explain it."

Komaru shook her head. "No. This is my story to tell."

Junko pouted. "Nobody appreciates true art anymore."

"Makoto, I know you've been wondering how and why I ended up this way," Komaru said. "I've been letting you think that Unending Despair would only let me tell you so much. But the truth is, they let me decide how much to tell you, and only suggested what I shouldn't. They never forced me to do anything."

Makoto stared at her. "That has to be a lie. The Komaru I knew-"

"-stopped existing the day she was kidnapped. It wasn't your fault, and I have _never_ blamed you for it, but everything changed that day, me included. Even when we finally spoke after that, it was obvious that both of us had changed. You wanted to pretend that it was just that we'd both grown up. You didn't want to admit it was because we'd both been through hell and managed to survive."

"I would have listened, if you wanted to tell me," Makoto insisted. "You know I would have, Komaru."

"But I didn't want to tell you. And even if I did, I only would have done it in person, not over a phone. I never got that chance. Things changed before I could."

"Was it Toko?"

Komaru nodded. "Maybe you knew, or maybe you didn't. But I was right beside her that whole time. She was moody and vulnerable, but she was also one of the fiercest people I'd ever met. And despite how talented she was, she still died. So if that could happen to someone with two talents, how long was I going to last with none?"

"But maybe you had a talent without realizing it? You were with Toko, but she couldn't have done everything for you. You had to be fighting hard, too."

"It didn't feel like a had a talent back then. It felt like I had nothing to depend on, after Toko died. I was hurt and alone and scared. And I knew you wouldn't come for me yet. Then Mikan found me. She saved my life, and brought me here. I met Hajime, and we talked about you, hope, and despair. He said I was safe, that I could stay until you came to get me. And if I had met him immediately after I was kidnapped, that offer would have been enough. But it was after I saw people butchered for amusement, after I saw the darkness of the human heart, after I saw my best friend fall so deep into despair that she thought nothing of ending my life. And more than anything else, I wanted power. Power to protect myself and those I love, power so I would never be taken advantage of because I was too weak, and power so I wouldn't be afraid of being alone again. And since hope didn't give me that power, I thought despair could. And I was right."

Makoto turned to stare at Hajime in disbelief. "It was _you_? You did this to Komaru? You made her this way?"

Hajime did not look away. "She asked me if it was possible to become immune to despair. I told her it was only possible to become resistant to it, and I warned her of the dangers involved. Komaru accepted the risks. She wanted this, knowing that she might never recover from it. And before you ask, yes, I did hesitate. I knew that you would see me making this offer to your sister as a betrayal. But it was an offer, she could have refused it, and I made every effort to keep her as safe as possible during and after the treatment."

Makoto shook his head and turned to Komaru. "What did he do to you?"

"Oh, PLEEEEEEEASE let me tell him?!" Junko squealed, practically hopping in her seat.

Komaru glared at her. "No. I told you, this is my story to tell."

Junko stuck her tongue out at Komaru. "You're no fun anymore, Komaru-chan!"

"It was the Neo World program, Makoto," Komaru explained. "At first, I was only there to recover from my wounds, mental and physical. But once I made my choice, that's when I met Junko."

Makoto turned to Hajime. "The Junko AI? I thought that was deleted?"

"Always have a back-up," Hajime said simply. "Why do you think there even was a Junko AI in the first place? I kept a back-up copy of the Junko AI, because I knew there would be a need for it."

"What could you possibly need her for?" Makoto demanded.

Hajime closed his eyes. "I owe you my very life, Makoto. In light of everything, I can imagine that you will find what I am about to say next very difficult to believe, but it is true. I found the task of plunging your sister into despair... distasteful. A rather large part of me did not want to do it. But she asked me to, and I felt I owed it to you, to grant her wishes. So I entrusted the task to Junko, who I knew would delight in transforming your sister, and Chiaki, who kept certain safeguards in place. But don't be mistaken, Junko wasn't released solely for that. There were Unending Despair matters we needed to consult her on."

"And despite everything she did to you, you were able to forgive her?" Makoto asked softly.

"Like you, Makoto, I am able to separate the maiden from the monster."

Junko blinked, frowned, looked like she wanted to argue, then shrugged and went back to filing her nails, apparently consenting that the statement was true enough where she wasn't really insulted by it.

"Komaru," Makoto said slowly, turning back to her. "Will you... tell me what she did to you?"

"Not in front of Sakura," Komaru immediately replied.

"Hey!" Sakura protested. "I'm not a kid anymore, and you said you'd tell me everything!"

"This has nothing to do with you being too young, Sakura-chan," Komaru replied. "This has to do with information I would rather take to the grave. Your father is the only other person I would ever share it with. If he feels comfortable telling you, he can do it later."

Sakura frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "That just means he won't."

"I don't mind telling her," Junko offered in what she seemed to think was a helpful tone.

Sakura eyed her doubtfully. "Would you even tell me the truth?"

Junko grinned. "That's a _very_ good question. I have lied to bring about devastating results over and over again. But the one thing I love more than a devastating lie, is an obliterating truth. So I'll make you a lovely deal, Sakura-chan. If you don't feel like waiting on your papa, and you want to know what I did to your oba-chan, I promise to only tell you the truth about it."

"Sakura," Makoto said sternly. "Don't ever trust her."

"It's not about trusting her, Papa," Sakura responded. "It's about getting all of the information I can. The lies and the truths. If you can't promise me that you'll tell me what I need to know..."

"I can't do that, not until I know what Komaru has to tell me."

Junko looked more pleased than ever. "Well, it's not something we have to decide right now. We still haven't gotten to why you're really here. You want to know all about that fake Junko, right?"

"You're calling her a fake," Sakura murmured, "but you... you're... well..."

Junko beamed at her. "Yeeees?"

"This one isn't fake," Komaru said firmly.

"But I thought you never met her when she was alive?" Sakura asked.

"I didn't," Komaru confirmed. "But this one isn't fake."

"How-?"

"She's based on the original's brain patterns, created on the orders of the original," Makoto added. "She may not be 'real' or 'authentic' by some standards. But she isn't fake."

Junko purred in pleasure. "Oh, Makoto, you make me feel so... _substantial_ when you talk like that!"

Makoto coughed. "In any case, this one is, for all intents and purposes, the original. Or at least she was birthed by the will of the original, and has the blessing of the original to act in her name, which is more than most can say. She is Junko. There isn't much point in questioning that."

"Which all implies that this other one we just met, doesn't have Junko's approval?" Sakura asked.

Junko shrugged. "That's a bit of a close-minded way to look at it, saying 'yes, I approved of her' or 'no, I didn't approve of her'... it would be more accurate to say that she's an experiment that I'm observing. But I distinctly recall telling her to keep her hands off of my playthings. Although I guess I didn't exactly say that she couldn't pop over and say hi, which is what it seems like she did."

"Does she have a name?" Sakura asked. "Separate from yours, I mean? Surely you don't call her by your own name?"

"Actually, I sort of have to. She doesn't answer to anything else, now. She's stubborn that way. But I guess Tokuyama Mei doesn't have quite the same ring to it."

"That's the name Monaca gave me," Komaru confirmed. "So she wasn't lying. I don't know if that's good or bad."

"Why would it be bad if Monaca wasn't lying?" Sakura asked.

"Because of Tokuyama's talent. She's the Ultimate Illusionist. And that was before she met Junko. There's no telling what else she's capable of now."

Junko giggled and leaned forward. "That kid... she's really something different. Even Hajime wasn't sure what to make of her. If she was only insane, we've seen that before. But neither of us could pierce the core of her mind. I can't tell you what her goal is, because I genuinely don't know, even after being inside her head. But I do know that assuming my identity is part of her plans, and she's going to raise plenty of hell along the way. That's good enough for me."

"You didn't," Makoto whispered in horror. "You put Tokuyama in the Neo World program, and overwrote her personality with your own?"

Junko laughed out loud. "You'd think so, right?! But here's the kicker: I didn't! I mean, yeah, I gave her a little piece of me for the road, but no more than anyone like Mikan has right now. Mei-chan was already so unique that I didn't want to erase what made her special. I may have tweaked her here and there, but the most drastic thing I did was change how she looked, and that was all her idea. Of course, she would have been stupid to blindly trust us, and she wanted proof that we could actually do what we were claiming. That's where her two flunkies proved useful."

"She wasn't alone?" Sakura asked.

"Nope! Funny thing about Mei-chan, she's a born entertainer, but she doesn't really do crowds once she's offstage. She only keeps you close if you're useful, and she'd only ever met two people who were: her best gal pal, and her boyfriend. But she's colder than the other side of the pillow, because she offered up her boyfriend and said to scramble his brain and body first. So, we did!"

"And where is he now?" Makoto asked, dreading the answer.

"Oh, you already saw him on your way in. You just didn't recogize him. Anyway, once we proved that we were on the up and up, Mei-chan and her gal pal took their turns. And as a token of good faith, or because he was no good to her the way he is now, or because she was done with him, she left her boyfriend here with us. I'd feel bad for him if it wasn't so funny! Anyway, that's the whole story. Oh, but you want to be very careful, Makoto. Mei-chan is a bit of a nostalgia buff. So when I asked her what she wanted me to do her gal pal, she told me to turn her into the most dangerous member of our old class. Other than me, that is. So, better stay on your toes. Information is power, ya know!"

Makoto stared at her, trying to determine exactly what she was hinting at. Then his eyes widened, his face went white, and he vanished from the room without warning.

"Papa?!" Sakura cried in alarm.

"Ah, he probably just went to throw up a bit," Junko explained, totally unconcerned. "Awful considerate of him not to do it here."

Komaru sighed and stood up. "I think we're done here, Sakura-chan."

Sakura shook her head. "Not unless you tell me what she did to you, oba-san. And I'd really rather hear it from you."

Komaru looked as if she would refuse again. Then she glanced at Junko. "Fine. Junko showed me a simulation, of sorts. Of how your father could have fallen in love with her while they were classmates. Only it didn't feel like a simulation. It felt like a memory. She hurt him terribly, Sakura-chan. Not so much his body, but his heart and soul. It was a kind of hurt that, if it actually happened, I couldn't protect him from it."

"But it wasn't real," Sakura said.

"Sakura-chan, one of Junko's favorite games is erasing memories and overwriting personalities. She did that at least once to your father. You're meeting her for the first time today. Can you honestly tell me, without even a trace of doubt, that you know everything she's capable of, everything she's done, just from what you heard and saw today?"

"I did tell her it was all fake," Junko offered. "But I also told her that just because something is fake, doesn't mean it feels any less real when you experience it yourself. If I could convince Komaru that it was real, I could have easily done the same thing to Makoto. And who knows? Maybe I already did."

* * *

Makoto had indeed gone to throw up a bit, Komaru and Sakura soon found after they removed their virtual reality helmets. He'd made it as far as the nearest corner before losing his lunch. Mikan was standing by with a mop and a resigned expression. Apparently vomiting was a fairly common reaction to these sessions. Or to Junko.

"What made him so ill?" Sakura murmured, looking at Komaru.

Komaru sighed. "You heard Junko, but you didn't understand. The personality of one of his former classmates was implanted into Mei's companion."

"No, I got that. But she said it was the most dangerous one. So who was it?"

"It depends. Most people would have said that Ogami Sakura was the most dangerous classmate, due to her physical strength. But if Junko were to select the most dangerous classmate... two people come to mind. Your father, but he's still alive. Which leaves Kirigiri Kyoko. Because she was the biggest threat to Junko's plans at Hope's Peak, and she is dead. She and your parents were close friends. So the thought of someone loyal to Tokuyama, walking around with Kyoko's memories and face, would be very upsetting for them. I'm sure your mother will feel the same way."

"I'm more concerned about Tokuyama's boyfriend," Sakura said. "We don't know who he looks like now. But we've only seen two people since we got here, and Junko said he was one of them. Mikan knew the one named Akane, which leaves the huge one with the helmet. We never got an introduction for that one."

"If it makes you feel any better, neither did I," Mikan added. "But I was assured that person would faithfully assist Akane in any way required. That was all I needed to know."

"Aren't you at all concerned that they could still be loyal to Tokuyama?" Sakura asked.

"I don't believe Tokuyama would order her boyfriend to assist Akane, so no. I suppose it's better just to ask and gauge the reaction. I sent them for ice, so they should be back shortly."

Makoto slowly got to his feet, wiping his mouth with a damp towel that Mikan handed him. "When I was near that person in the helmet, I got the strange sensation that I knew them. It must have been because they were also given the appearance and memories of someone from my class. But the only person that size was-"

"Here's your ice, Mikan," Akane interrupted as she and her helmeted companion returned, each carrying a large buckets of ice. "Oh, you guys are done chatting already? I thought it would take longer."

"Does your friend have a name, Akane?" Mikan asked.

Akane glanced at the helmeted person. "Not anymore. Hajime told me what it was before, but it doesn't do any good now. They don't recognize it. It has no meaning to them now."

"Nishihara Kenji," Komaru said abruptly. "That was the only male name in the file that Monaca gave me."

There was no visible reaction from the person in the helmet.

Makoto slowly approached the person. "Will you please remove your helmet and let us see your face?"

Without hesitation, the person did as Makoto requested.

* * *

Naegi Aoi did not care for being left behind while her husband faced danger. And yet, the moment their first children were born, she leared to accept that fate, for their sake. Someone had to look after them while Makoto was away. And even though Aoi would gladly risk her body and life to protect her children, she knew her talent was not really suited for protecting someone. Not on land, anyway.

Perhaps that was why, without fail, each of her children had been born with a talent that was perfectly suited for protecting themselves, and their family. It terrified Aoi, the idea that they would need to fight. Still, they were better equipped for that eventuality than she had ever been, and she'd managed to survive. So there was every reason to hope that things would end better for them than they had for her.

Yet, none of this in any way changed the fact that Aoi hated being left at home. More annoying was the fact she'd given Makoto and Sakura permission to leave her, so it was difficult to come up with a convincing complaint that put the blame on them.

Instead, Aoi sat at the kitchen table, peeling apples with her oldest daughter. That was nothing unusual, but the way the daughter was staring at her mother was.

Aoi forced herself to smile. "What's on your mind?"

"How long are you going to be mad, Mama?"

"Until they get back, of course. Then I might yell for a bit. Just to get it out of my system. And yes, I know I let them go, so you can stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you know I'm being silly and are greatly amused by it. I'm in no mood for it, Kyoko."

The girl reached over and squeezed her mother's hand. "I'm scared, too, Mama."

Aoi sighed and dropped her head, only to jump as Kyoko's cellphone, which was on the table, began to buzz. Kyoko answered it while Aoi tried to get her heartbeat under control.

"Say that again, Sakura-chan," Kyoko said after a moment. After a short pause, she shook her head slightly. "Wait, you're not making sense to me. Here's Mama." Kyoko passed the phone to her mother.

"Sakura?" Aoi breathed, fearing the worst.

"Hi, Mama," Sakura said, sounding strangely happy. "I knew you'd still be up."

"Are you okay? Where's your father?"

"We're both fine, and he's right here. We're almost home now."

"How did it go?" Aoi asked.

"I learned a whole lot," Sakura murmured. "More than I wanted to, but all that I needed to. I think I know how I can protect everyone now, and that's what I wanted to find out. I have so many things I want to ask you later."

Aoi sighed in relief. "That's fine."

"I met her, Mama."

Aoi stiffened. "The woman who the twins followed?"

"No, we didn't see her. I met Enoshima Junko. The AI one, I mean."

"Did she... do anything to you?"

"No, but I think she liked me. I don't think I've ever wanted someone not to like me so much."

"As long as you're safe, that's all that matters."

"Mama, there's something else," Sakura said. "I don't know if you'll think it's good or bad. We're bringing home a guest. Someone you do and don't know, who you may or may not welcome into our home."

"I have no idea what you mean," Aoi stated plainly.

"Maybe it's better to just show you. We'll be home in a few minutes. I think you should wake everyone up. This is part of how I'm protecting the family."

* * *

There were three four-person couches in the Naegi living room out of sheer necessity. The six children and two parents took up two couches by themselves, which left one for company.

This was the only time when company consisted of a single person easily able to take up nearly an entire couch with no help.

Aoi had said nothing. She had been struck silent from the very sight of their guest. No one could blame her, least of all Sakura.

"Maybe we should all introduce ourselves," Makoto finally suggested. "That's the best way to make new friends."

"I am the stranger here," the guest said at once, "I should explain myself first. My memories are not so much fragmented as they are borrowed. Everything I know belongs in someone else's head. It is important that I learn to determine what information I can depend on, and what should be discarded. I would like to know more about you all, so that I can compare it to what I was told of you."

Makoto glanced at his family. No one offered any objection. "I guess that's okay?"

"Thank you." The guest slowly stood up. "I was born with the name Nishihara Kenji. It no longer holds any meaning for me, though for the sake of simplicity, I will answer to it for now. I was in love with a girl. I believed that she loved me. It was her will that I assume the form of someone else, so I did. My body and mind were molded to be duplicates of Ogami Sakura."

Aoi was unable to prevent a whimper from slipping from her mouth.

Kenji turned to her. "I have memories of your time with Ogami-san at Hope's Peak, but also of her childhood. I suspect that means that the copy of her memories that I possess is the most complete version that any living person has. This troubles me."

"Why?" Makoto asked.

"Because Ogami-san was a good person who loved her family and friends dearly. She should be here, instead of me. Instead, I, a mockery of her, stand here, poisoning your memory of her."

"That just isn't true," Aoi insisted. "I don't know what you were like before, Kenji-san. But the remorse you feel? Sakura would have felt it for you. You're more like her than you know. That's a tribute to her memory, not a poison." She paused and laughed uneasily. "Although I think you being male would take some getting used to for her. It's going to take time for me, as well, but I hope you're willing to give me that. I'd like to get to know you. It won't be the same as having her back, but maybe it shouldn't be the same. You aren't her, and it would be wrong for you pretend that you were. The best tribute you could give her is to live in a way that honors the self you wish to become. The way I'm told you helped Akane with her physical therapy? I'm sure that would have made Sakura very proud."

Kenji nodded. "Then I will trust in the opinion of Ogami-san's best friend. Please, take all the time you need to adjust."

The oldest child stood up. He was lean, but had enough easily visible muscles where it was clear that he had worked hard for them. Unlike his sisters, who all had various shades of their mother's skin and hair, he looked almost exactly like Makoto, with the notable exception of his shaved head. "I'm Chihiro," the boy offered with a nod. "I'm a knight."

Kenji blinked. "You like chess?"

"Tell it to the lance in his room," Kyoko murmured, rolling her eyes.

"Ah." Kenji hesitated. "That must be... tricky?"

Chihiro shrugged. "I don't know many other people who are. But I met a gladiator a few years back, so we hang out whenever we can."

Kyoko stood up next. "I'm Kyoko. Knives are my thing." A concealed knife slid out of her sleeve and into her hand, and she twirled it between her fingers with both ease and alarming speed. There were no visible cuts on her fingers, at any rate.

"Show-off," Chihiro muttered.

Kyoko glared at him, but there was no heat in that look. And when she sat down, they exchanged a series of arm pokes that quickly died down without either parent having to intervene. It was a consequence of being the oldest twins: their fights could not last long, not when they had four little sisters to look after.

There was a long pause, in which several people looked expectantly at Sakura's twin, but she did not move or speak, either too shy or too stubborn. Sakura finally stood up and offered her hand, but her twin shook her head firmly. With a sigh, Sakura turned to their guest. "We met earlier, so you know I'm Sakura. This is Sayaka, and she likes kickboxing."

Kenji nodded. "Perhaps we could practice together some time. I find myself in need of a new training partner."

Sayaka said nothing, but smiled tentatively.

Sakura turned to the twins, who were seated between their parents and looking somewhat uncomfortable. They had never been around someone so large, so it was natural that they might be intimidated. "You two want to say hello? Or do you want me to help you?"

The twins shared a brief look with each other, stood up, and joined Sakura. Most took this to mean that they wanted her help, and were surprised when the older twin bravely stepped forward.

"That's Junko," she said, pointing to her twin. "She's a ninja. I'm Mukuro, and I'm a stalker." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Kenji. "Got a problem with that?"

Kenji blinked. "No?"

"Yeah, and you better not!" Mukuro looked as if she were going to launch herself at Kenji, but Chihiro and Kyoko, clearly expecting this, dogpiled her and dragged her back to the couch. It seemed to take considerable effort on their part, and Mukuro put up an admirable amount of fight, given her much smaller size. But then, Kenji reasoned, perhaps a good stalker would not be so easily apprehended.

Junko remained silent by Sakura's side, lightly gripping her hand. She would not meet Kenji's gaze, and did not speak at all that night, as far as Kenji saw and heard. His hope was that, like Sayaka, she was shy. Makoto later assured him that this was somewhat the case: Junko was very slow to warm up to anyone new, and she was not so much shy as she was overly cautious. Mukuro did the talking for both of them, and even when Junko did make a decision that she wanted known, she never expressed it in words to anyone but her twin. Even Makoto, who Junko was reportedly especially close to, typically only got head nods or shakes out of her. Rather than frustrate them, every member of the family made an extra effort to make Junko feel included. Which she did. She just never said so out loud to anyone but Mukuro, who passed the assurance on to everyone else.

* * *

Kenji was amazed at how easily the Naegi family seemed to adjust to him. Sometimes it actually seemed as if they had just been waiting for someone who looked almost exactly like Ogami Sakura to come into their home.

Admittedly, Aoi took the longest, as he had thought she might. But she had been Ogami's best friend, while her children had never even met the woman. All the children knew was that they now had a grown playmate who was willing to help out in any form of physical exercise (or torture) that they could come up with. So Kenji happily had jousting matches with Chihiro, stood still while Kyoko threw blades at him, kickboxed with Sayaka, and got used to Mukuro and Junko suddenly leaping out of nowhere and trying to bite him to death. The latter he allowed more for everyone else's sake, since Makoto pointed out that as the largest person in the house, it would take longest for him to die of blood loss. Mukuro seemed to take that as a challenge, unfortunately.

Sakura took pity on him, and asked only one thing of Kenji. And, increasingly, it was the same thing that Aoi and Makoto asked of him.

Sharing memories of Ogami Sakura. It was a simple, yet surprisingly effective way of honoring her memory. And even though it was such a small thing, Aoi claimed that Ogami would have valued that over any other contribution that Kenji made to the family. But after giving it some thought, Kenji disagreed. Watching over the Naegi family, helping the children hone their talents so that they could protect themselves and each other... that, he felt certain, was what Ogami Sakura would have valued most. And it was something he could do: for her, for himself, and for this family who had taken him in. If this was his reward, for trusting the wrong person, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to make mistakes more often.

* * *

 **Epilogue: Just Us Demons**

 _Some Time Later_

"Naegi-san. I want it understood, no one appreciates what you have meant to the cause more than us. Togami-sama has always said you were among his most important old comrades."

Makoto didn't smile. Byakuya would never allow himself to have old school friends. Only old comrades. But in all fairness, their school hadn't been all that friendly, in the end.

"And it is certainly not my place to tell you how to raise your children. I would never be so-"

"What did they do?" Makoto asked wearily.

The man looked as if he really didn't want to say.

"I've been in this situation before, trust me. What did they do?"

"Blew up a church," the Togami henchman (for Makoto could think of the faceless, seemingly limitless army of sharp suited, sunglasses-equipped Togami employees as little else, though Aoi fondly called them "Bya-chan's goon squad") said in a rush.

Makoto blinked. "Sorry? I thought you said-"

"Yes, you should be sorry."

"No, I meant... you know what, forget it."

"I'm pretty sure I never will, actually." The Togami henchman shook his head and gestured to the closed door behind him. "They're here in the conference room. I should point out, some of us wanted to handcuff them, considering."

"Thank you for not doing that."

"Don't thank me, I was all for doing it. But they kept picking the handcuffs and then laughing at us, so there was no point."

Makoto was trying very hard not to groan. "Ah, well. Some of them already knew how, and the ones who didn't, probably learned from Komaru. Or Nagito. Or Mikan..."

"You are really not helping just now," the henchman pointed out.

"No, I realize that. Can I see them, please?"

"We'd actually prefer that you got them out of here, right now."

"I assumed you were going to hold them?"

"They blew up a church, Naegi-san. We don't want to find out what they might do to us. Please take them home immediately. And I can suggest an excellent locksmith, if you want-"

"Thank you," Makoto said firmly, moving past the man. He paused, giving the man time to run away in shame and fear, and then opened the door.

All five heads in the room turned to stare at him.

"Well," Makoto said brightly. "Blown up any churches lately?"

"Just the one," was the immediate, clearly rehearsed reply from them all.

"Why don't we go before they change their minds about arresting you all? You can work on your apologies to your mothers in the van."

" _Our_ mom wouldn't care," Toko said defiantly.

"You got caught, and you had to be rescued by me," Makoto said firmly. "Komaru will defintely care about that."

Toko wilted, knowing he was right. If they'd pulled this off, gotten home in time for dinner, and their parents found out by seeing it on the news, Komaru wouldn't have said a word. But, that a child of hers got caught in the act, and then saved by Makoto? Her knowing was almost punishment enough by itself. Almost.

"But you are all here, and I don't see any major injuries or obvious limbs missing," Makoto continued. "Which means you took care of each other, like we taught you to. So thanks for getting that much right. Still: you are all obviously grounded for the rest of the year."

Toko pouted, though she was not nearly young or cute enough for it to be effective on him. "But it's March, oji-chan!"

"And I assume by the time your parents have added their own punishments, it'll be the March after that... twenty years from now. So by all means, keep talking. I'm not even sure it's possible for you to be in any more trouble than you are now."

"That sounds like a challenge," Mukuro said with an eager grin.

"It really wasn't, Mu-chan," he assured her.

Mukuro blushed and scowled. "Don't call me that in front of the gang, Pops!"

"You should be glad I'm still willing to claim you as my daughter at all, at this point. And you'll be lucky if I ever call you anything else. You are on punishment, and will remain so for the forseeable future. So get used to the embarrasing cutesy nicknames, they won't be stopping anytime soon." He pointed to the door. "All of you, in the van now, please."

They all got up and started to file past Makoto.

Toko shot Makoto a glare as she reached him. She didn't protest when he kissed her cheek, though.

Syo grinned. "Brought you a souvenir, oji-chan." He handed over a small statue. No doubt it held some religious importance, since it had caught Syo's eye, but it was slightly damaged and dirty, and Makoto was suddenly too tired to ask. Really, it spoke volumes that Syo was the only male influence that had been welcomed into the gang. Chihiro was far too virtuous for this type of thing.

Makoto tried to smile, but wasn't sure it worked out too well. "Thanks, Syo."

Kyoko said nothing, and clearly wasn't going to, but Makoto put his hand on her shoulder and simply requested, "Explain, please." She was the only real surprise. He needed to know how his normally very responsible daughter had gotten caught up in this.

After a pause, she said, "I had to, tou-chan."

"Why?"

Kyoko hesitated. "They offered me a chance. I had to take it."

"A chance at what?"

Kyoko suddenly gave him a big, tight hug, startling him. She had always welcomed kisses, but had passed the age where hugs from her father were a little much for public places. Makoto could only return the embrace, glad that whatever she'd experienced that night had brought his oldest daughter a little closer to him than she had been before.

Then Kyoko's lips brushed his ear, and she whispered, "I avenged her, tou-chan. I'm the only Kyoko again."

And Makoto felt his daughter slip even further away, at the confirmation that Tokuyama Mei's friend was dead. And either his Kyoko and her knives were responsible, or she had watched it. It proved what Makoto had been dreading for some time: that Komaru and Nagito weren't raising the only monsters in the Naegi family. Even if they had become monsters for what they saw as justice, rather than despair. Even if they had no issue spreading a little despair themselves.

Why else would they have named their little gang the HoPairs?

And the worst of it was, now Tokuyama Mei had a legitimate reason to come after them: revenge. Either Kyoko couldn't see that, or she didn't care. Would Kirigiri have wanted this, even for settling a wrong on her behalf? Makoto really didn't think so. But it was too late to tell his Kyoko that now. So long as she was still his, that had to be enough.

And then Mukuro, unapologetic as always, grinned and turned her face up to his, her lips puckered for a kiss. Unlike Toko, Mukuro actually was cute enough for this to be effective.

Makoto flicked her forehead instead. "Kiss later. Punishment now."

Rubbing her forehead, Mukuro gestured for her twin to follow her.

"We'll catch up," Makoto said. "And tell the others that if anyone has hotwired that van and taken it for a joyride before I get back, there will be hell to pay."

Mukuro was almost purring at the thought, but caught Makoto's warning look and quickly made her escape.

Makoto closed the door, then turned to face his baby girl, who as usual, hadn't said a word. He walked over and sat down, and invited her to do the same. "Junko-chan," he said softly once she was seated. "Was this your idea?"

"Monaca got us the intel," Junko replied. "Sakura told us what not to do. The rest was me."

"Why?"

"Because you named me after a monster, I won't be her legacy, and I won't let someone who is walk around with Kirigiri-san's face. If Kirigiri-san was good enough to be Ko-nee's namesake, then she deserved better from us."

They had had this debate so many times before, and she never seemed to get it. Makoto had to try again. He took her hands in his. "Baby, you're my legacy, not hers."

"It doesn't always feel that way to me, Papa. And I'm tired of feeling that way."

He gave her a helpless look. "Don't you know how much we love you?"

She smiled. "Sure. I love you all, too. More than anything. Why do you think I only let family into the gang? But us loving each other isn't going to save the world. Me taking the bad guys out is. I proved that tonight. Even if a church got in the way."

Makoto sighed. "I named you for the Junko that was once my friend. Even if it was an act, even if she never really existed, it didn't feel like it then. I named you to prove to myself that Junko could mean something wonderful, that it didn't have to always be associated with despair."

"That doesn't help me, though. If I have to be a demon, I'll be a demon for justice."

"I thought you would have said a demon for hope."

She shook her head. "If you wanted me to believe in hope, you should have named me something else. I'll leave that stuff to you guys. I'm Naegi Junko, and I'll burn down anyone who gets in your way. That's how I've decided to protect the family."

Makoto knew it was pointless. His Junko believed what she believed. In Love, Family, and Justice. Perhaps not in that order, though.

"If it helps," Junko added, "Syo did the bomb."

"Are you lying to me? Trying to make me feel better?"

"Not this time. Bombs are really his thing. I promised him he could be my Bomb Guy, if he didn't blow any of us up."

"Do you _have_ to have a Bomb Guy?"

"I guess I don't have to. But if I didn't have one, then we would have had to fight our way out tonight. And then we might have lost some limbs. So, Bomb Guy's safer. And yes, I know how that sounds."

Makoto frowned. "Are you still my little girl? You don't talk much like her."

"I never talked much at all, Papa. And I'm not a little girl anymore. But I'll always be your demon. I promise." She yawned. "Let's go home. I get antsy if I don't have one of Kenji's protein shakes every night."

And as Junko took his hand and pulled him out of the room, Makoto thought that maybe he could live with what his children had become. At least, for one more night. And many more after that.

* * *

When the bloodsoaked, badly burned hand twitched, a perfectly manicured hand was there to grasp it.

"You look like hell, Kyoko-chan."

"Then I'm becoming more like you by the second."

A wide grin was the response.

"Did faking my death actually require me to nearly die?"

The already impossibly wide grin managed to widen even further.

"Forget I asked. But why didn't you just kill those two when you had the chance? Look at how much trouble they're able to cause us. We must have lost over thirty-six men in that bombing."

"But wasn't it _fun_?!"

Kyoko stared at her. "I think you might actually be insane."

"That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me, Kyoko-chan!"

"If you say so, IV."

"I never actually gave you permission to call me that."

"True. But you also haven't killed me for it yet."

It made sense for one of them to be Kyoko. But there had simply been too many other Junkos: the original, the AI, Monaca (even if she had never officially assumed the title, she still had the training and was proving to be all too troublesome), and now Makoto's baby girl. So when Kyoko got tired of saying, "No, not that Junko, this one," she had started referring to them by Roman numerals. Which made hers IV.

Her reward for this, fittingly enough, was a stab wound that required an IV to treat.

"We're going to have so much fun playing against them again," IV purred, a starry look in her eyes. "I can't wait!"

"I think V might be ahead on points just now."

"Doesn't matter. We'll do something really big next time, you'll see!"

"Oh, joy," Kyoko muttered flatly. If her hands hadn't already been burned, "for authenticity" as the Junko AI had insisted, then she would have been extremely pissed at Syo for burning them now. But now that she had been re-burned, she felt as if she'd really been made authentic. Kirigiri had been burned because she wasn't careful, and that was true here, as well. She wouldn't underestimate the Naegi kids again.

It was never a good idea to underestimate a Junko, or a Naegi. And Kyoko didn't even want to imagine what V, the only person who could claim to be both, might be capable of.

 **The End.**

* * *

 **Endnotes:**

In case anyone got confused about the kids' names, since there are a lot of them.  
Komaru and Nagito named their kids after Toko (both of her), Yuta (Aoi's brother), and Chiaki.  
Makoto and Aoi named their kids after their classmates, who are (with the nicknames Sakura came up with): Chihiro (Ro-nii), Kyoko (Ko-nee), Sayaka (Saya-chan), Sakura, Mukuro (Ro-chan or Mu-chan), and Junko (Ko-chan).

If you don't know the significance of a kid named Hijirihara, you missed Danganronpa Gaiden: Killer Killer. Which is worth a read just because of its weirdness, and the appearance of some rarely-seen characters.

I know, some of you are thinking, "Makoto's okay with his kids blowing up a church? Not cool!" If they had simply done it without a reason, that would be awful. But, they were seeking their own brand of justice, and the original goal was not to destroy the church, so... not quite as bad. And before he knew all that, Makoto simply trusted that he hadn't raised the sort of kids who would blow up a church without an excellent reason. Makoto is focusing on the positives (he really, really has to): none of the kids got arrested or hurt much or killed. And aren't entirely evil, so there's that.


End file.
